The Neverending Cold
by The Weather Gal
Summary: CHAPTER 7 ADDED! 'Now as it fades into spring, we’ll have to remind ourselves of how the crisp air can affect you in ways unimaginable.' MarkRoger
1. The Cold Consuming a Lonely Boy

**Author's Note:** This is my first time at writing Rent FF, so bear with me. I am a big fan of Mark/Roger-ness… because they are so adorable. Of course, I don't own Rent, I just enjoy playing with them. This will eventually turn into Mark/Roger slash, if you couldn't tell from this chapter. Reviews are great, especially since this is my first time at it. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: The Cold Consuming a Lonely Boy

Shit, I don't remember it ever being this cold before. I swear every winter in the loft it gets colder and colder. Maybe it's because I'm getting older and weary from this lifestyle or maybe it is physically getting colder. I don't know anymore. I look down at my weary hands, holding my precious camera so tightly.

"Pan left, to our broken heater. I don't even think it's ever worked properly. Pan upwards, to the ceiling that no longer exists. Plastic falling down, once covering it, no longer serves its purpose. The place we live." I turn off the camera and set it down on the table. A gust of wind breezed through the loft and I shiver a little. I run over to the windows, closing the two that opened. Great, it's starting to snow.

What's the point of living indoors when the outdoors and indoors mesh into one? Heck, who knows. But these conditions are not good for Roger and I am getting more and more concerned about him everyday. He deserves to be living in a place where he has a chance of a long, happy life. Maybe he likes the cold. I don't know. It seems like we never talk anymore. Ever. An occasional chit-chat here and there… but nothing about our feelings.

The past couple of months have been pretty bad for me. Money seems to be getting harder and harder to come by and with that, comes consequences. I've heard my stomach rumble more than it's been full and my clothes seem to be getting baggier on me. My face seems to be drained of life and I just seem to be like a dead soul occupying a body. I don't know how I got here, but I do know that it's not ideal. But I'll be fine; I'm not the one that's HIV positive. I have to be strong for Roger and help take care of him, with what means I can. So I skip a couple meals so I can give money for Roger to eat. So what does it matter?

I start shivering rapidly and glance over into my room. I think I'll grab my blanket and use that for warmth. I walk into my dimly lit room and glance around. Dark, cold, just like the living room. I grab the blanket and move back into the living room and sit down on the couch. It's dark. Roger's been gone all day; I'm not quite sure what he was doing. He left this morning, said he'd be gone all day, and that was that. We didn't ask many questions any more. We've drifted apart in the past couple of months. I think he knows his time is slowly diminishing and he doesn't want to hurt me when he goes. Of course I'm going to be hurt when he goes, he's my other half. We've been together, as friends, for such a long time, I can't even imagine what will happen when he goes. I try not to think about it too much. Not yet, anyway.

I hear the large door slide open and don't care to even look over at him. I know it's him and I just don't have the energy, the strength, to look at him. He drops his guitar and other stuff by his door and comes over and sits on the couch by me. I wrap the blanket around me tighter. It gets colder as he sits down besides me.

"Fuck man, it's freezing in here," he says, opening the line of communication between us.

"Hence, the blanket," I reply, nodding down to the blanket that is tightly wrapped around me.

"Good idea man," he says while getting up and walking away from me. It's a start. I sit alone on the couch again, to ponder my thoughts, the cold, this life.

He comes back out of his room with his blanket as well and sits back next to me on the couch. It's a start.

"Is this the coldest winter yet, or is it just me?" he asks, and I can't help but laugh a little.

"I was just thinking the same thing before you came home…" I slowly choke out, unable to look him in the eyes.

He shifts in his seat and it seems like he's unsure of how to proceed next. I quickly glance up at him, but when our eyes meet, I quickly look back down. How did we get here? I don't know. But then I felt him place his hand on my shoulder and I knew he was ready to open up and I wasn't sure if I was ready.

"Hey, Mark, I know I haven't been, around at all lately, in every way, but I want you to know, I want that to change. I miss talking to you," he says, the last part coming out quietly than the rest.

"Me too," I barely whisper.

"So I was thinking, how about we go get something at the Life?" he asks me.

Heat, warmth, food? They all sound so exciting. My eyes gleam until I remember, I have no money. "I… well, yeah. That sounds so great. But, how we going to pay for it?"

"No fear my fine friend, I've got that covered," he replies, pulling out a small sum of money. I smile, but then wonder where possibly he could be getting that much money from.

"But Roger, what… how… did…. I don't…" I start rambling, incoherent nonsense.

"Come on, let's go, we'll talk when we get there," he says, pulling me up from my comfortable position on the couch. The blanket falls off of me and I am suddenly confronted with the cold again.

I grab my scarf and follow Roger out of the loft. We walk down the street as the snow continues to gently fall. It collects in Roger's hair and on my scarf as well. It seems almost peaceful, the way we walk down the street, just observing the life in the Alphabet City… our life.

We arrive at the Life Café, busy as usual, and I feel the warmth take over my body, which is barely surviving the cold. Roger interacts with the host, which does not seem too happy about our arrival. He shows him the money in advance, in which the man takes us to a table near the back. For once I can take off the layers of clothes I put on to try and keep warm.

Roger sits down first and begins scanning through the menu. He never looks at the menu, he always orders the same thing. He must be nervous; I don't know why he would be doing that. But I sit down and rub my hands together, trying to warm up. I, of course, ignore the menu, but instead study the man sitting across from me.

The waiter comes to our table and we order. Of course, the usual order from us both, and Roger's menu is taken away and he can't hide behind it anymore. That's when it gets weird.

"So…." he starts. I just look up at him, with a confused expression.

"So, where are you getting money from?" I bluntly ask him. I figure we might as well get this awkwardness out of the way.

"Well, um… yeah. So, a couple of weeks ago, I ran into this friend of mine, back when I was with the band, and he's working for this record company now. So, he told me he knew of studio that was looking for a guitarist, and they were the kind of music I would like, so he got me in touch with them, and well, for the past two weeks, I've been working for them!" he says, so excited, and happy, for once.

"Wow, Roger, wow, that's so amazing! I can't believe… you? A job?" I say, surprised, astonished, a little bit of every emotion.

"I know, so unlike me, oh trust me, I was hesitant at first, but these guys, it's just perfect. Getting money for doing what I love and now, we'll have money…" he trails off.

"Are you sure? I mean, Roger…" I stop, unsure how to continue. At this point, I have my hands out on the table, and he puts his out, over mine, in a manner to calm me. I look down at our hands and then back up at his eyes.

"Mark…" he starts, "Things have been so hard lately, and if I can do one thing to make everything just this much better, I want to for once. I know you've been the one trying to take care of me, of us, keeping us all together and alive."

How to respond to that? Roger, Mr. I don't tell anyone my feelings Roger, is here, opening up to me, of all people. Should I be happy? Of course I'm happy, my stomach is doing flip-flops. But… I don't know. It just seems too perfect. This isn't our lives. This isn't what our relationship is supposed to be. I'm supposed to be the one taking care of him.

"Aren't you going to say anything, Mark?" he asks me. I can't, I'm having problems breathing correctly.

"Uh… I… that's great… Rog…" I stutter out.

"You don't seem too thrilled about it," he says, with a hint of anger in his voice. How am I supposed to be thrilled about it? He sold out. I thought we'd never sell out like this. I mean, yeah, I worked for Buzzline, but that was different. I quit after I realized it was interfering with my work. I started shaking my head…

"No, that's great Roger… seriously…" I say, trying to sound confident in my response to satisfy him. He doesn't look too convinced, but I tried my best. "How much will you be working?" I ask, trying to sound interested.

He looks unhappy, but still responds, "Oh, I'll work every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. It's enough."

"That's good," I say, unsure, while grasping my cup of tea and taking a timid sip out of it.

It seems like I've really angered him now, because I can see his knuckles getting whiter and whiter. He slams his right hand down on the table and I notice people around us glaring quite unhappily. "Mark, I don't know what your problem is, but it's unsettling. Do you want us to constantly be living just a grade above poverty? Do you want me to die because I can't afford medicine or hospital visits? Would you rather starve to death, be without heat? I walked into the loft earlier and it's colder in there than outside. So tell me, Mark, why can't you be happy for me?

I can't handle this, I'm shaking as his voice is getting louder and angrier, and I can see what seems like thousands of eyes all staring at me. I grab my coat and scarf and run out the door.

I've been running for what seems like hours, but in reality, it's only been probably 10 minutes or so. I stop to catch my breath when I realize that I definitely have no idea where I've ran to. I hunch over, peering down at the snow covered ground. Not only is it getting late, it's getting colder, and the snow is coming down harder and harder.

I don't know what I should do. I could go back to the loft, but then I'd have to deal with Roger. I could sleep out on the street, but that's generally not a good idea. If I had money, I could get a hotel room. I could jump on a bus and go home. That's definitely not a good idea.

Then a bad idea, which soon turned into a good idea, popped into my head. I could see if Maureen and Joanne would let me spend the night at their place. Just one night, it wouldn't harm a thing. I peer around the nearest corner and look for a pay phone and lucky for me, there is one just down the street. I have to have enough change in my pocket to make one call and I dig deep into my pockets looking for the round objects. I find just enough and place the coins into the machine.

The phone begins to ring and the thought never crossed my mind that they might not be home. Or that they would say no. But after the third ring, I hear someone on the other end saying hello.

"Hello?" what sounds to be Maureen says into the phone.

"Maureen?" I reply, my voice shaking and unsure what I should say next.

"Mark, is that you?" she asks.

"Yeah, it's me…" pausing a beat before I continue. "Listen, is there anyway, I could possibly spend the night at your place tonight?"

"What happened Marky!" she asks, in her usual tone that gets me reeling every time.

"It's a long story… but seriously, I can't go home tonight…" I tell her. I can sense hesitation in her voice, but she sighs and I know she's going to give in.

"Of course, you can get here okay?" she asks. No, probably not, but I'll manage.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I'll see you in awhile." I hang up the phone and look around. Now to find their apartment…

Almost an hour later, I arrive on the doorstep of Maureen and Joanne's apartment. By this point I'm absolutely freezing from head to toe and the heat almost stings. I lift my hand up to knock and gently hit the door twice. I hear squealing inside and in a moment later, Maureen opening the door and wrapping me around in her arms.

"What's wrong Marky, I was so worried about you, you took forever to get here!" she says while wrapping me tighter and tighter.

"I just was a little lost, that was all. Don't worry," I reassure her.

Joanne comes over to greet me and wraps me in a gentle hug. After we pull away, she grabs me by the hand and pulls me towards the kitchen.

"Mark, you are freezing! What have you been doing, living in an igloo? Here, I made you some tea," Joanne tells me, forcing a scalding hot cup of tea into my hand. My fingers burn at first, but as soon as the liquid touches my palate it seems to warm my entire soul. I put the glass down and take off my coat and scarf and sit down with them on their sofa.

"So, tell us what happened," Maureen states, so matter of factly.

"Let him get calmed down for a second, Maureen, it's obvious he's still defrosting," Joanne responded.

"No, it's fine…" I start. Then I proceed to tell them what happened in the Life, down to every detail. I keep my eyes down for most of the story, unsure how they would react.

"So… there's that. So am I being silly? Childish? I don't know… I just feel so alone all the time and he goes and does this and acts like he's doing it for us! The last time I checked, he didn't care about what happened to me." I stop, taking a sip of what's left of my tea after my narrative. I look at both women, who return my glance with semi smiles.

"You're upset because you're used to taking care of him, he's always been the one that's needed to be taken care of. Now, he's trying to help take care of the both of you and he's doing it in a way that isn't quite ideal. But he's happy for once and that's why you're scared," Joanne responds.

I look up at her with a blank expression. Her words sting, but they aren't anything I didn't already know and they are what I needed to be told. I sigh… unsure how to proceed next.

I quietly mutter, "I know."

"Marky, no offense, but I can see why he wants to take care of you. You look horrible yourself," Maureen informs me.

I see Joanne smack her on the arm to stop and give Maureen a dirty look. They both look back at me with unsure smiles and I know they are just trying to help.

"So what do I do?" I ask, moving on.

They both seem hesitant to respond to my question, but Joanne gives Maureen a look that could kill, so it was obvious that Maureen had something on her mind that I would not enjoy hearing. So instead, Joanne chose to give me the advice.

"You should go back to him, you should tell him how you feel. It's the least you can do. You guys used to be best friends, you need each other. You are both miserable when you are mad at each other and you both try to keep care of each other, but you don't express your feelings well. Finally Roger has opened up to you, who knows why, and you just want to be angry. You can stay here tonight if you want, but you would feel better if you would go back and be with him tonight."

I can't believe how right she is. I can't believe how well these two women know us. I reach over and give Joanne a hug, while quietly whispering in her ear, "You're right."

"How about I drive you back to the loft?" Joanne asks. "Then you won't get any colder than you already are."

I shrug my shoulders. I've been gone for what, three hours now, so Roger's probably had time to cool off. I can do this. I know I can. "Yeah, that would be great."

They both stand up after I do and follow me to the door. Maureen pulls me into a big hug, with wet tears in her eyes. All she whispers in my ear is, "Eat something Mark, you look horrible."

I pull away with a small smile. It was with her comment that I realized I had yet to eat anything but a tea that day, but it didn't matter. That's all I had on a lot of days. I'll be fine. Joanne took me outside, where the cold continued to cause havoc on my body. I climb into Joanne's car and the drive is quiet as we make our way back to Avenue B.

When we reach the loft, she reaches across and gives me a hug. "Don't ever hesitate to ask for help when you need it, Mark."

I say goodnight and stare up at the loft as I step out of her car. I wave goodbye and see the car drive into the distance. This is it, now or never. I climb the stairs to the loft and tremble as I open the door. I don't hear any music coming from the loft, so it's entirely possible he's not even home.

But luck is not on my side today as I notice him sitting on the ledge of the loft, staring out the window. I quietly shut the door, but not quiet enough, as he glares over at me. I see hurt in his eyes, hurt that I've had myself countless time. Hurt that he's given to me, I couldn't even count how many times. He says nothing, I say nothing. I grab the blanket that remains on the couch and wrap it around me again. I go and sit by him, watching as the snow continues to come down onto the earth.

I figure I would be the one to start talking again, so I figured it was now or never. I glance at him and quietly begin, "God Roger, I am so sorry. I just… I don't even know. The past couple of months, I've been so lonely, I never see you. Then, all of sudden, you open up to me in ways you never have before." I pause, trying to hold back tears that I can feel forming in my heart, my eyes. "I've always been the one taking care of people, of you. I just don't know if I can handle you taking care of me."

I watch as he turns his head from looking out the window to staring his eyes straight into mine. I see the hurt pouring from his facial expression, but then it turns into something else. I can't define it.

"But I realized something tonight," I start to say, as the words come out of my mouth, I know they are true, "I think I need you to take care of me. I think I need you to take care of me and I think you need me to take care of you. Roger, the past couple of months, I haven't cared about myself, I've just tried taking care of you, and it hasn't worked, because you keep shutting me out."

I think I've said my peace. It's apparent he doesn't have a response for me, so I start to get up to go into my room. But then he grabs my hand with such a force I'm forced back into the ledge of the window. He continues to hold onto my hand, almost as if he's afraid of letting go.

"Why do you think I took this job in the first place? I knew how bad we had things going, I looked at you everyday and saw you getting smaller and I couldn't bare to look at you anymore. I knew I was doing this to you and I couldn't stand it anymore." His voice is trembling and he pulls me closer and closer with every word. "I promise you, with all my heart, that this is not me selling out. You know me, of all people, would never sell out. This is something I enjoy doing and it's giving us money, money to help us survive."

He stops talking and I can tell he's nervous. He's never said anything like this before, well not to me anyway, and I don't know how to proceed. It's like I'm too afraid to mess things up. Things are already messed up, I guess you could say.

"So what do we do?" I ask him, hesitant to ask him the question, but I knew it could evoke the correct response.

"Let's go back to the way things were… you know, you always filming me, me always getting mad at you filming me, you eating something for once, I'll take my AZT every time you tell me to, we'll go out, and we'll get some heat in this place."

I smile at him. That's a good enough answer for me right now. "Yeah, that's good. Especially the heat thing."

"Agreed," he responds. He finally lets go of my hand and walks away from the ledge. I watch him walk into my room, which peaks my curiosity. I walk as quickly as I can with the large blanket around me and peer into my room and notice him lying on my bed.

"What are you doing now?" I ask him, hinting at some playfulness in my voice, trying to liven things up in this quite depressing living space.

"You're room is way warmer than mine, so I am sleeping here tonight," he informs me, so matter of factly. My mouth drops in astonishment as I stare at him quite confused.

"So where am I supposed to sleep?" I ask him in response.

"Dunno. You can sleep on the bed as long as you don't touch me." He says, all seriously, then starts a little laugh. "Just joking, Mark! You're bed is big enough, and if we share all our blankets, then we'll be super warm! Please……." he says, almost in a childlike whining voice. I had to give into him.

"Alright… but you better not slobber on me," I warn him as I start throwing blankets onto the bed.

Looks like things are somewhat getting back to normal.

**Please remember to review!** Expect another lengthy chapter in a few days! **Thank you for reading!**


	2. Verbal & Pillow Fights

**Authors Note: **Oh my gosh! I couldn't believe how many great reviews I received from you all. It definitely motivated me to get this out faster for you and I hope you enjoy what I've produced. Thank you! Once again, Rent doesn't belong to me, I'm just using it for fun! This will definitely start to pick up more Mark/Roger in the next chapter, if anyone is curious. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 2 – Verbal & Pillow Fights (Mark's POV)  
**

As I slowly open my eyes I feel warm. Warm? I adjust my eyes to the sunlight pouring into the bedroom and see that I am indeed still in the loft. Then I look over and it hits me like a ton of bricks. Roger slept in my bed last night and that's why it's so warm. Back that up… Roger slept in my bed last night? He claimed my bedroom was warmer, but I don't know if I believe him. I wrap the blankets around my body even tighter, trying to keep the warm air trapped within the covers of the bed.

I feel him twist in his sleep and I hope he's not up yet. I need some time to think. Last night wasn't exactly ideal. Yes, we're going to try and get things back to normal, but how normal can they be now? I mean, Roger working, opening up to me, talking about his feelings, all things that are definitely not in the dictionary under 'normal'. Everything seems still very messed up.

He turns over again and I hear him let out a small moan. I sincerely hope he's not waking up because it's going to be rather awkward. Things will definitely not be normal. I turn to look at him and notice his eyes are open. Great…

"Morning Mark," he seems to say, barely audible, but with the close proximity of our faces, I was able to hear it perfectly. He rubs his hands over his face and pulls his blankets closer to him.

"Uh… morning, Roger," I reply.

He seems to becoming more awake and with that he gets this sly smile across his face. "You are totally weirded out, aren't you? You woke up this morning and freaked out? Am I right?"

"No…." I start, but can't resist his smile, "Yes…"

"You look like a deer in the headlights," he replies, turning over while laughing at me.

"Hey, no I don't!" I protest.

He turns back over and pulls himself a bit closer to me. "Yes, yes you do. So stop freaking out. Think of it this way, we both got a good night's sleep and were actually warm for once in this frozen icebox."

"Yeah, I couldn't believe how warm I was when I woke up this morning, I really don't want to get out of bed," I reply, finally relaxing in our quite strained situation.

"Then don't. Or better yet, go grab your camera and we'll film a day of you and me in bed doing nothing!"

"As tempting as that sounds…." I start, but soon enough I'm cut of by him, pulling the blankets over our heads.

"Come on Mark, it'll be fun. I don't have to work today and I know you don't, it can be like our day to relax. Please…." he whines to me and starts with his pouty face. I had to give into him and his argument was quite convincing.

"Alright," I resigned, however as soon as I said it, I could hear my stomach making a large noise signaling to me it wanted to be fed. Roger looks at me with this disappointing look upon his face and I knew at that exact moment we were about to go from happy times to not so happy times.

"Mark, honestly, when was the last time you had a real meal, I mean, last night you ran out on me instead of eating," he asks me.

I try not to look at him in the eyes, to see his disappointment, but I figure I better answer him or he's going to get angry. But I'm assuming his answer is going to make him angry as well. Well, might as well just get it out there. "A real meal? Uh, well… it's been awhile. I mostly eat something little every other day or so…"

I wait for the wrath of Roger to fall down on me, closing my eyes waiting for him to scream at me. But it doesn't come, so I cautiously open my eyes to see what he's doing.

"You afraid I'm going to hurt you or something?" he asks, with a funny expression on his face. In the back of my mind, that's exactly what I was thinking he was going to do.

"Well… that or yell really loudly," I reply, cautiously.

"I thought about it… I am really angry… but I figured that's not going to solve the problem. So let's take a break from our day in bed and go shopping!" he says with excitement in his voice that is unheard of for Roger Davis. Once again, I'm a bit scared by this.

"Okay…" is all I can get out without sounding extremely terrified.

"Don't sound so unsure, Mark, it'll be fun. And your stomach will stop making those horrible noises."

They were getting to be a little out of control, but I couldn't admit that to him. I guess I no longer had any say in this conversation, because the next thing I knew he was pulling the blankets off of the bed and the cold over took me faster than I could imagine. I wrap my arms around my body as fast as I could, but the warmth seemed to float away. Roger had grabbed one of the blankets as he tore them off and wrapped it around himself. Kind of him to think of me, wasn't it? I quickly jumped to the heap of blankets and grabbed one to wrap back around me.

"Now, we can't stay here all day, so let's get ready to go," he so kindly informs me.

"It's so cold, Roger, I don't want to go out," I pout, with my best pouty face. I'm trying to get back at him for pulling off the blankets, trying to act all sad. I think its working.

"How about I go make you some tea while you get ready and then we can go?" he asks me, almost trying to offer a peace settlement. Of course my eyes perk up at that suggestion, as he takes it as a yes and moves into the kitchen to begin making my tea. The amusing part is that I know Roger has no idea how to do it. So, I watch him as he moves about in the kitchen, quite confused, until I can tell he's getting frustrated.

"Need some help?" I ask him, addressing him from the doorway, blanket and all.

"Uh…. well… when you make it… it seems so easy!" he seems to get out.

"That's because I've done it a billion times. Don't worry about it, let's just get ready and go, we can stop somewhere and you can buy me tea," giving him a weak smile as I finish the sentence.

"Yeah, that would be good," he replies, putting away the mess he had seemed to make in the short time.

* * *

Thirty minutes later we're walking down the aisles at the nearest market, scanning the aisles for nourishment. Of course I grab Captain Crunch and he picks out some new tea for me. We continue down the aisles until we find enough food that will last a considerable amount of time. We stop in the junk food aisle, which normally is an off limits area when shopping, considering we never have any money for it.

"Let's get some fun food for once," Roger remarks.

"Now that's just foolish, you should save your money for other stuff," I reply to his absurd remark.

"Mark, if we are going to lie around in bed all day, we have to have some fun," he says, pleading with me as he goes to grab a bag of popcorn. I grab his hand away from the bag and turn him to face me.

"Roger, I swear, if one kernel ends up crushed between the blankets on my bed, you are a dead man," I tell him, finally lightening up a little.

"Don't worry, I'm already a dead man, so I'll put kernels wherever I like!" he says, trying to play off his sickness, but it hits me hard. I just bow my head and keep walking away from the cart of food we've collected. He doesn't notice for a moment, but as soon as he does, he drags the cart up to me as fast as he could go. "Mark, what now?" he asks, almost with a hint of anger in his voice.

"You know I don't like when you joke about _that_," I say, quietly, almost hoping that he doesn't hear me emphasize _that_. But I can tell he has because he grabs my shoulder and turns me around.

"Mark, I'm sick! I'm dying!" his voice getting louder with every word. He knows I hate when he yells at me, so he uses it against me. "It doesn't matter now, okay? I decided that I'm not going to dwell on it anymore. What's the use anyway? Let's have fun today and worry about that tomorrow." He concludes by getting softer and more sincere. I know he's being serious for once about his health and I can't help but love him for that. I mean… love him in the entirely brotherly sense… right?

What am I thinking? I am thinking entirely too much right now. "Okay, yeah…." is my response to his expressive narrative and we walk in silence up to the register. I stand back from him as he places the items onto the counter and pays for them, considering my ever increasing thoughts on the matter that is Roger. I don't know what has happened to him. After Mimi died, he was depressed for months. I was so worried he was going to commit suicide and I would be left alone. Alone to die wondering what would have happened if things had been different. But now… Roger wants to change things for once and it's scaring me. I can't help it. All these emotions are hard to handle and I feel like the weak one for once.

We walk out of the market as the cold engulfs us with her presence. I wrap my scarf a bit tighter, hoping to keep my neck warm. Neither of us says anything and I know things are weird again. Damn. I knew we couldn't last like that for any considerable amount of time. It's not us at all. What do I do now?

I grab his upper arm with the free hand and pull him to face me. "I'm sorry I don't like when you talk about it. I'm not ready for you to go yet and I'm not ready to face the reality that you won't be with me forever." As honest as it was, it was one of the most painful things I have ever said to him about his disease.

He stares at me and I don't know how to read him. I never know how to read him. I don't know if he just doesn't know how to act now that we've decided to open up to one another like this or if he just doesn't know how to respond to what I've said. I wonder if he's ever thought about it from my point of view. Someone who will watch his closest friends die and he can't do a single thing about it. Someone who will live to be old and only have memories left of the people who changed his life. Doesn't he wonder why I film so much? How else will I be able to remember everything?

I watch as he places his bags down on the ground and grabs me into a hug. It was definitely not what I was expecting, but I welcomed it openly. He seems to pull me closer and closer and finally after a minute or so, pulls away. He picks up the bags and we continue walking down the street. It's all back to normal, right?

* * *

We arrive back at the loft and put everything quickly. We played it almost like a game, throwing food back and forth to one another as we put it away. It helped keep us warm, since our heating condition had not improved since we left earlier. As soon as we finish, I turn around to grab my camera and as soon as I turn back he's gone. I scan the apartment and can't see him anywhere, so I slowly make my way back to my room. Of course, I find him grabbing all the blankets and wrapping himself as tight as he can go. I turn on my camera and film this interesting side of Roger.

"As we focus on Roger, who has developed a new infatuation with my blankets and bedroom, we scan around the loft, noticing that it's quite frigid in here. Hence, our plan to spend the entire day, well, after our visit to the store, in bed, and be warm, and do nothing. So, here begins the documentary of the hilarity that is to ensure…" I conclude, placing the camera on the table by my bed. I join Roger, who's already placed himself comfortably in the bed, and grab a handful of blankets and dress myself in them. We both look like bums, if I say so myself, and start to laugh at the way we look.

He frees his right hand and grabs something from behind him. He pulls it around and shoves it into my face while exclaiming, "We've got snacks!"

I pull the bag out of my face and open it, grabbing a handful and passing it back to him. We continue this mantra for a couple minutes, enjoying the food and each other's company. After the bag is over half gone, Roger places it over on the table; we'll save it for later. He lies down, blankets still wrapped tightly around him, making him like a mummy. I mirror his actions and we end up messing up the blankets so we can share them all again. That's when I feel it again, the feeling of warmth, of happiness. It's the same feeling I woke up with.

"What should we do now?" I ask him.

"Grab your camera," he replies. I grab the machine, rather quickly before I notice him forcing the blankets over my head. We're engulfed in layers of cotton and the area we inhabit becomes very small. The temperature rises incredibly and I barely can get control over the camera. As soon as I turn it on, he grabs it from my hands and I don't have the chance to fight with him about it.

"We focus on our dear friend the filmmaker, as he is attacked by thousands of fibers in our little castle we have constructed." After his little narrative, he begins to make quite odd noises… they sound like… a dragon? I think?

I start laughing uncontrollably and try to ask him, "What… what are you doing?"

He continues to pretend to spit fire and make loud noises and I can't stop laughing. He uses my camera to film his quite sporadic actions and I know that this will go down in history as possibly the funniest thing I've ever gotten on film. And maybe even the most random thing I've ever gotten on film, which is saying something. After awhile, he calms down and puts the camera back on the table. Our laughter calms down as we remain underneath the layers of blankets. We both end up lying face up, unable to see each other any more, just feeling our breathing through the layers.

After a couple of minutes just lying in silence, Roger moves the blankets aside so he could see my face. I turn my own face to meet his and am greeted by a bright smile. I haven't seen him this happy in awhile and it's a nice change for once. I wish I could know what exactly happened to make him this way, but I know if he wanted to tell me, he would. I have a feeling he will. But I will wait patiently until then and enjoy his happy mood as a reminder. I feel him grab my hand and this feeling, tingling feeling, runs up and down my spine. A feeling I haven't felt… well, now that I think about it, in an extremely long time. He takes my hand in his and just stares at it for a length of time before he says anything. I had no words to say, so I just waited until he had the courage to tell me what he needed to say.

He squeezes my hand tight before he begins. I know he's being serious. "Mark… I know you. I know in your brain you've been thinking constantly about what's been up with me. I see you acting surprised that I'm being so foolishly happy. I know you're confused and wonder what has caused this change with me. I want to tell you… but I'm not ready yet. Something has happened to me and I can't describe it to you yet. I'm still taking control over it. So, until I understand, I just ask you to wait. That's all I need from you."

"Whenever you are ready, I'll be here," I tell him.

"I know, you're always here for me," he softly replies.

He squeezes my hand one last time before he lets go. What could all this possibly mean? The possibilities are endless. I guess it's futile to try and interpret his vagueness, but I know in the back of my brain I've already begun. I try to shut it off, but I can't. I just can't anymore.

He sits up so that he's out from underneath the blankets. I join him quickly and hope that the uncomfortable feeling in the air passes quickly. I suppose our grand plan to sit in bed all day wasn't such a good one considering we would run out of things to do rather quickly. Then all we'd have is words and neither of us is very good at that, so it's best we try to avoid it as much as possible.

The air clears as I watch him grab his guitar from beside the bed. I hadn't even seen him bring it in here; then again, I didn't even see him come in here. He easily could have grabbed it on his way. He starts strumming a few notes and humming a small tune. I grab my camera and place it so that I'm just getting the view of the strings and his gentle fingers as they strum the instrument. It's beautiful… watching him and the music that comes as a product.

He continues for awhile and I realize that I've stopped filming and am just observing him. He notices it as well, as he pauses from his playing to look at me back. We just stay like that for what seems like an eternity, until he breaks the silence.

"Do I have something funny on my face?" he asks, obviously going for the comic route. Thank God… I don't know if I could honestly respond to what I was doing.

"No, just the usual funniness," I inform him, smiling as we finally break our gaze.

"Alright Cohen, I've had enough of your debauchery, it's time for payback," he informs me, placing his guitar down beside the bed. Out of the blue, I feel a pillow connecting with my face and I'm thrown backwards onto the bed. My camera falls to my side and I try grabbing it to put on the table. I am successful in my attempt to save my dear camera and grab my pillow as I come back up. I place it in front of my face, creating a barrier between me and Roger, waiting for his next attack.

"What, too afraid now?" I hear him ask from behind the pillow.

I drop my pillow down and smile at him, "Seriously Roger, are you going insane?"

"I certainly hope not!" he replies, with a even greater smile upon his face.

"Because you are acting like you are… 12!" I inform him and his response is sticking out his tongue. Wow, I can't believe him. I am seriously in stun mode right now. I pull the covers off and stand up out of the bed. He looks confused and hurt, I think, and stares up at me. As much fun as we were having, I couldn't help but think of the rational side of things. What are we doing? Here we are, two grown men, both acting like we would as teenagers, trying to ignore our problems, which we have hundreds of.

I leave the bedroom and head over to the window. I peer down and watch as the homeless stumble by and as taxis drive quickly down our avenue. Why can't I try and be happy for once? Roger seems to have it figured out somehow, that I personally can't figure out, which is another good topic of discussion. How did he get so happy all of a sudden? Why can't I let him be happy? Why do I have to go and stomp off like this? I know what he's thinking right now: the exact same thing.

Roger and I, sometimes it's like I don't understand why we work together. How we've managed to live together for such a long time and not kill one another in the process. We mesh together so well. It's like fate brought us together to help us find something. We both search for meaning in our work and so far have found it in other ways. Roger, finding his perfect song through Mimi, and I found the reason for my film through Angel and everyone but him. What does that even mean? I don't know anymore. Here I go again, I'm thinking too hard. And about Roger and I, which leads to more trouble. I need to like detoxify my brain and see what happens next.

I'm still glaring out the window when I feel a hand placed on my shoulder. I don't dare turn around because I know exactly what's behind me. He's behind me, he's always there, a presence to be reckoned with. I don't know what he'll say; I don't want to see the hurt look in his eyes anymore. I feel so horrible continuing to hurt him, considering I know the countless times he's hurt me and I know he's done nothing about it. Maybe this is his chance to make up for it. I'm not sure. But I know he's not the only one hurting right now.

"Mark," he says, barely above a whisper, and into my ear. I can't turn around, I can't let him see the tears that are pooling in my eyes. I keep my ground and don't respond to him. "I don't know… I don't know what to say… we were having so much fun, then you turn all melancholy on me the next minute. I… uh… did I do something wrong?"

I just shake my head no in response, avoiding his glare as best as I could. I feel him pull away his hand from my shoulder and step back from me. What else I could I say?

"Mark, we keep having the same fight over and over again. I'm sick of it. What is your problem? Seriously…" he pauses before he continues. "You're moodier than… than… a pregnant woman!"

I smile at his serious remark and finally turn around to face him. He looks angry at me and I don't know what I should do.

"I don't know… I honestly don't," is all I can reply with. It's the truth. I don't know what my problem is.

"Well, until you figure out, that's it. I'm going out," he replies as he walks away from me.

"Roger…" I squeak out as he storms away. He's angry and I know from past experience that I can't stop him when he's angry. "Wait…"

He stops, turns around, and glares at me. "What?"

I kneel down, trying to take everything in. "I'm just… I'm not used to us being like this. I don't know… I guess I wasn't ready for it." The last part comes out quieter than the rest and I don't know if he even heard it.

He drops his hands to his sides and seems to relax a bit. He comes back walking over to me and puts both hands on my shoulders. He stares down for a minute, collecting his thoughts. He looks back up at me and I know maybe, in that instant, things are okay.

"Mark, our lives never stay constant. As much as we try to keep everything in order it seems like there is always something throwing a wrench in things. You can't always expect for bad things to come knocking on our door all the time because good things can happen too. I think… I think I need to explain some things. How about we go get you that tea I promised you earlier and I can tell you about them?" he ends, his voice slightly cracking at the question. The sincerity in his voice is overwhelming and I can't help but want to run away with him.

"Yeah, that's… that's a great idea," I reply.

We both grab our coats, I grab my camera and bag, and we head out the door. I can only hope whatever Roger has to tell me doesn't make me even more riddled with confusing thoughts. I can't even imagine what it is… but I guess I'll find out soon enough.

* * *

**Thank you again for reading! Reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	3. Fresh Air

**Author's Note: **Thank you to all my great reviewers! It just takes a second to write something, anything, and I would appreciate it greatly… it is my exam week and I'm driving myself crazy with studying, and writing this helps! I hope you enjoy this chapter, it starts with Roger's POV and then back to Mark's at the end. It explains a lot of things and I hope I didn't make the flashbacks too confusing! Remember, Rent doesn't belong to me, I just enjoy and love it!  Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 3 – Fresh Air**

**ROGER'S POV**

I have to admit, I have been acting quite abnormal. I can see why Mark is reacting the way he is. It's just like him to be acting this way. I know he'd rather be scurrying around, barking at me to go out and do something, take my AZT, and try to feed me something. He'd be encouraging me to sit down with my guitar and play or write or do something that would get my spirits up. Well, now our roles are reversed, and I can see why it makes him so uneasy. I guess it all started… well… a long time ago.

**10 months previous**

I can't handle this. Mimi can't leave me, I'm just not strong enough to go on without her. It's just not fair, I should be the one going first… she has so much life, so much happiness, something I never could get straight. I'm always so negative, she's deserves my better health right now. But the doctors are rushing around, trying to make her better, but they know that she doesn't have much time left.

"Excuse me, are you with Mimi Marquez?" one of the younger doctors, who I am presuming is an intern, asks me.

I glance over his shoulder to avoid having to look at him. "Uh, yeah, I'm with her. I'm Roger Davis."

"Well, that makes a lot of sense. She's been screaming for you for a couple minutes now… would you like to see her?" he asks, unsure of the question, and unsure of the circumstances, that was for sure.

"Yeah, I'll see her," I reply and follow him down the hallway. I hate hospitals more than anything. I know when my time comes, I'm telling Mark to not let me stay in one, all connected to machines, trying to prolong what is obviously my impending death. I just want to go peacefully, in a place in like the loft, where the memories of my life will be so porous that it will be a happy death. I guess as happy as death can be.

I walk into her room and have the urge to just hold her forever, telling her that everything will be okay. But that's not me. And that's not the truth. Everyone will not be okay, she's leaving me. As soon as I realize that, I feel a tear drip down my cheek and I quickly wipe it off. I have to be strong for her because otherwise what else does she have?

I glance over at her, her frail body looking weaker than when I saw her last. She seems so innocent, attached to all the machines, lying peacefully. I walk up to her bed and watch her scarce breathing, her gentle body making hardly any movement whatsoever. I sit down beside her and slip my hand into hers. Her eyes open at this action and I just stare into them. Her eyes, something I will always remember because they are too beautiful to forget. We stay like this for awhile, too afraid to break the silence and give into the fear.

"Roger…" she quietly murmurs.

"Mimi?" I reply, squeezing her hand even harder, not wanting her to go, not wanting to let go.

"You need to do me a favor," she begins, with each word it becomes apparent it's taking her more and more energy to exert.

"Anything for you, my beautiful," I tell her, choking back any raw emotions.

"Don't give up on life after I go, you have so much to live for. Let Mark take care of you and take care of him. You don't see it sometimes, but he needs you as much as you need him." At her last word, the tears come down. In her last moments, all she cares about is me. How did I get so lucky to have her in my life? I don't take the time to analyze what she's truly told me, but I know it doesn't matter right now.

"I promise," squeezing her hand again.

**Present Day**

It seems like Mark needs his camera to keep his memories. I've never been one for photographs or videos, it seems like I can capture a memory with my brain more vivid than any of Mark's films. I still remember that day as if it were yesterday and keep her wise words of wisdom close to my heart. Her words didn't really hit me hard until months after her death. I hadn't had time to analyze them until I pushed my hatred for the world that I insisted on the several months after she left me. The funny part was, this memory, it was just an ordinary day that is clearer in my mind than what I did last night.

**4 months previous**

I woke up this morning and decided that I would try at least leaving my room for a little while. I don't know what motivated me to decide on this, I mean, I haven't made any decisions on anything in months. I haven't done anything in months. I sit, alone, with my guitar, in my room, and wonder why I should even care. I'm going to go soon, just like Mimi, but she wouldn't want me to give up like that. So, at least I'm not giving up yet.

I slowly make my way out into the living room, surveying the area that I have tried to ignore so hard. I don't see Mark anywhere, so he must be out doing… well… whatever he does nowadays. I don't honestly know, I really don't talk to him anymore. He occasionally sticks his head into my room, probably to make sure I'm still alive, but I noticed he stopped trying to talk to me at least a month ago. I hear him come and go day in and day out… but it's almost as if I don't even exist.

I sit down on the couch and try and relax. I haven't sat on this couch in weeks and it's a feeling like… almost like reconnecting with something you haven't touched in forever. It's a fresh, happy feeling, and I lay out, taking it all in. Maybe this day will be different. I stare up at the ceiling and breathe in the freshness of the air. It's a cold, crisp autumn day, I can tell by the temperature in the loft. Temperature in the loft is normally just a couple degrees warmer than the temperature outside. Not a noticeable difference at all, that's for sure. While I am taking in all this fresh air, I fail to notice Mark come in the loft.

When I break my gaze from the ceiling, I peer over to my left and see my blonde roommate standing in the doorway, seemingly unable to move. He's just staring at me, I think unsure what to make of my action. I moved out to the couch, big deal. He probably thinks it's the apocalypse. I take another look at him, this time a deeper look. I haven't seen him in his entirety in months. That's when I remember her words.

_Don't give up on life after I go, you have so much to live for. Let Mark take care of you and take care of him. You don't see it sometimes, but he needs you as much as you need him._

I didn't listen to Mimi. I promised her, in her last days, this promise, and I've failed her. I look over at Mark and I can tell I've failed, horribly. He looks like he's been practically living on the street, he appears even skinnier than he was before, if that's even possible. He has this look of sadness that consumes his soul and it's daunting. It's as if he is unable to possess happiness and he's even closer to death than I. He finally moves away from the doorway and heads in to his bedroom. Not a word was said between us, but our friendship expressed what words could not.

I stared back up at the ceiling. I considered Mimi's words again. He needs me and I can see it now. He's lowered himself to what state I've sunken to, complete and utter displeasure with life and happiness. I have to believe that I have something to do with that and I can't help but feel mad at myself. How could I have let this happen to Mark, the one of us that has so much possibility, so much hope, for his life? The more I consider it, I don't know what else could have done this to him. I mean, I guess I wouldn't know. I haven't talked to him, seriously, for a long time.

I stay out on the couch for at least an hour before Mark makes another appearance in the living area. I watch him carefully as he collects some items strewn across the space and bring them back to his room. He does this a couple more times and I think he's only doing it to watch me. To figure out what I'm doing. Heck, I don't know what I'm doing. All I know is that the air out here is better for thinking, which is all I seem to do nowadays. He finally stops whatever he's doing and comes over to the couch. He stares at me a moment before saying anything.

"Is everything okay, Roger?" he asks, the insecurity wavering in his voice.

"Yeah," is all I grunt, not willing to quite open up yet. I think I can get there again, but I'm not ready yet. I don't know when, but maybe soon. Maybe more of lying on this couch will help.

"Do you need anything?" he asks me, obviously unsure if I've moved out here for problematic reasons. I'm enjoying my new change of scenery, by the way.

"No," I reply, short and sweet.

"Okay," he finishes, turning away from me and walking back towards his room. It was a start, right?

**Present Day**

If it weren't for that day… I don't know if I'd be at where I am today. I still can feel the air that was so vibrant and fresh and what it did to me. How it changed my spirit. The next day brought more progress in my search to find some meaning to my life. A reason to go on, I guess you could say. If I wanted Mimi's words to ring true, I had to find a reason not to give up. I figured I'd give up my constant depression temporarily to see if I like the other way better. I mean, I figured I might be missing out on something.

**4 Months Previous**

Today when I woke up, I made a decision that I was going to go for a walk outside. Yesterday's experience on the couch turned out rather enjoyable, so I figured it was time to go out and see how the real world is handling without me. Its bad enough I look like death already, deprived from sunlight for so long has made me pale, almost as bad as Mark. As soon as I'm ready to go, I grab my jacket and head for the door.

As soon as I open the door, I hear Mark scurry out of his room and say, "What are you doing?"

I couldn't help but laugh inside, considering I was confusing the hell out of Mark. So, I played it off, or else he was going to start asking way too many questions. "I'm going out."

Not allowing him a chance to respond, I shut the door and headed down the stairs to the outside world. Opening the door to the outside world, it was like my rebirth. I felt so alive again. It seemed like the world was like, welcome back Roger, we're glad you've decided to join us again. I started walking down the street and observed everything… the bums, the trash, the worn down buildings, and the sky. I took a walk around the block and made my way back to the loft. I wouldn't want to overdo it now, because that would be bad. I had just a savory taste of the new phase of my life. I think Mimi would be proud. I know she wanted me to go on without her, be happy, enjoy my life, but I just couldn't image doing that at first. She was my life. But now I'm seeing that she's sending down some of her love to show me how to live. Maybe Mimi and Angel are up there causing a commotion, having fun sharing love to other people, and helping me out along the way. The thought of that makes a big smile come across my face. I don't think I've smiled like this in a long time. I look downward to hide it, but at the same time I want to share it across the land.

I return back from my walk and take my climb up the stairs slowly. I glance at Mimi's former apartment, pause and observe it for a second. So many memories lie within in, good and bad ones alike, and I stay still as they all come flooding back. After the moment passes, I climb the last bit up to our apartment.

As soon as I've entered, I observe Mark working on something on the couch. He glances up at me, a look of confusion, yet happiness, and I return his glance with a weak smile. I figure that'll quench his need for interaction for a little bit. I enter back into my safe haven and throw my shoes and coat back in the corner, where they occupied previously for several months. I sit back on the bed and lay out. I collect all my thoughts that I've experienced on my short trip to the outside world. It's a small start, but I think it's something.

**Present Day**

So that's how I began to get out of my depression and I still, to this day, can't even believe I did it all on my own. It would have typical for Mark to drag me out and force me to get on with my life. But this time he didn't. Maybe he's given up on me, figure he's tried too hard to get nothing in return. This is my turn to repay him for all the times he's tried to help me get out of my destructive habits. It's frightening how much he's turning into me and I wouldn't wish that on anyone. I don't even like who I am some of the time and I just can't imagine Mark like that. He's so much better than that, he's so much better than me.

We're walking towards this run down café that we occasionally frequent when we're sick of eating at the Life. That, or when they don't let us in for causing too much of a commotion. Normally it's the latter, but sometimes we need a change. And after last night, I don't know if we should go there anyway.

I'm trying to collect my thoughts as we walk down the snow covered avenue, considering everything I have to tell him. He walks ahead of me and I notice how small he is. The sadness overwhelms me and I am reminded why we're walking down this street. It's time to tell him everything that's happened to me that past couple of months.

* * *

**MARK'S POV**

We're walking a bit distanced from each other and I fear what's waiting for me when we arrive at the café. What has he 'discovered'? The endless possibilities run through my mind, just like the single frames of one of my films. Is he planning on moving away? He's going to leave me again and he wants to soften the blow, which in my mind, seems to make the most sense at the current moment. Maybe he's found another girl and he feels weird about it, since Mimi left us not so long ago. Concerned about how it would look if he just moved on so quickly after she left. So many possibilities, all of them make less sense as I come up with them in my brain. Maybe he's back on the drugs, although I pray that isn't the case. He has gone away for long periods at a time, possibly trying to avoid me while he's in that state of mind. I sincerely doubt that is the case, considering I would know, I could tell. I just can.

Once we arrive, we're seated a table in the middle, amongst many other patrons, and I wonder if Roger asked for this on purpose. Put me in a position where I couldn't react crazy, but honestly, that's not going to stop me. I need to stop overanalyzing things, but I can't help it. It's what I do best. I always thought it helped me become a better filmmaker.

We order and I can tell he's nervous. Nervous around me? Again? Twice in two days? This must be a miracle. What he has to tell must be pretty disastrous and he's afraid how I'm going to take it. I'm already in a pretty bad shape, so I don't know how whatever he has to tell me could make it any worse.

"So, remember that day when I came out of my room, really, for the first time? When I sat on the couch like all day?" he begins by asking me.

I smile at his question, of course I remember that day. "I remember that day, man, you scared the shit out of me!"

"And the following day, when I went outside for the first time?" he asks, again, a simple question. Of course, I remember every little thing he's done, when it's considered to be quite epic considering the circumstances.

"Once again, I remember, although you weren't gone very long at all," I remark, I always wondered what he did that day.

"And then I just started to do more random things like that?" he continues. Random? Yeah, you could say that.

"Like the time I found you on the balcony and you stayed there for like 6 hours at a time?" I replied to his questions with another question.

"Yeah, like that. You remember?" he seems unsure. Of course I remember.

"Seriously, Rog, I don't know what you are getting at. Of course I remember, I was so happy, yet confused, I didn't know what to make of them at the time."

He seems happy with this response and takes a sip of his drink, after he sets it down, he starts again. "Yeah, so the day Mimi died, she asked me to promise her something, and until then, I really hadn't thought about it at all. I guess I was still too hung up on her dying… that, well, I forgot to do the one thing she asked me to do."

He stops there, unsure how to continue. He begins again after a moment of hesitation, "Well, she told me, that, well…" he stops again, stuttering and afraid to continue.

"Roger, if you don't spit it out…" I say, realizing it may have been a little harsh for the circumstances.

"Yeah, I'm getting there… okay, well, she said that I shouldn't just give up on my life. That I should keep on going without her. And I wasn't at that point. She also said, well… something about you…"

My eyes glance up at this remark because honestly, what could have Mimi said to Roger, on her death bed, that got him this tongue-tied.

"Well, she told me that I should let you take care of me and that I should help take care of you. That we need each other if we're going to survive in this hellish state of life we've arranged ourselves in. She said… well, she said that I need you as much as you need me."

I consider the magnitude of what Roger's just confessed to me. Mimi, you were so wise, yet I never knew it. And the more I think about it, the more I can see how it's true. I want to take care of Roger, help him get better, and he wants to do the same. I'm just not used to it.

"Wow," is all I can get out, fearing that the extreme silence may ruin the moment. "Mimi really cared about you."

"I know," he replies, bowing his head. "The thing is, that first day, the day I laid on the couch all day, I realized I was failing. I wasn't helping you and I wasn't letting you help me. You looked like shit, Mark, and you still do."

I interrupt with a subtle, "Thanks…"

"But seriously, you need to stop this, because it's driving me crazy. All this, not eating, looking like death's knocking at your door. It's not good for you, man."

I let out a small chuckle at his remark and take a sip of my extremely hot tea. "Yeah, now you sound like my mother."

"Yeah, I know. But there's another thing, something I haven't told you yet."

"What else is there to tell?" it seems like he's covered a lot of ground already. I can only imagine what he's going to say now… I'm leaving, or something equally insane.

"Well, in my quest to, cure myself from my depression after Mimi's death, I guess I did a lot of soul searching, which is why I just would do stuff like sit on the balcony for 6 hours at a time," he starts. "But, there was this one day, it was so beautiful outside. And I was sitting in a park, in the grass, I don't really know why."

I continue watching him. He's changed while he's talking, he seems so much happier. I don't know what it is, but it's confusing the hell out of me.

"It all made sense, the air cleared everything out for me. I came to a conclusion, that at first I thought was a bit crazy, I seriously considered that I was going insane. But the more I considered it, the more I knew it was true."

"Well?" I asked, wanting to know this big conclusion that's he's come to.

He looks down a moment and I sense more hesitation. Then, he grabs my hand and drags me to the back of the café. What was it he couldn't tell me out there? That has me really nervous.

"Well, I decided that… well…." and his face got closer, and I could feel his breathing. Then, it happened. Roger Davis kissed me.

* * *

**Thank you for reading! Reviews are greatly ****appreciated****, I love to hear any suggestions and thoughts you might have:) **  



	4. Falling Hard

**Author's Note: **Wow, you guys really liked that last chapter! Thank you so much for all the great reviews, I wish I could tell each of you individually how much your words meant and I tried to  
incorporate some of your suggestions here! Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this chapter and I hope my characterization of Roger is getting better. Rent belongs to Jon Larson and I just use it to have some fun. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 4 – Falling Hard**

**Mark's POV**

Let's put together the sequence of events, shall we? First, Mimi dies. Roger goes into his room and doesn't come out for months. He sulks around and is overall depressed. I, however, try to continue on with my life, but the fact of the matter is, I get sucked into his madness, and become one with Roger. Then, miraculously Roger starts doing random things, sitting outside on the balcony for hours at a time, staring at the ceiling while lying on the floor, generally odd behavior when looked at from a distance. Then, he starts getting all chatty with me. I freak out, as I often do, and run to Maureen and Joanne for help. We talk and make up, sleep in the same bed last night, and then spend a relatively carefree day in bed doing nothing. Now, Roger takes me out to dinner, pulls me to the back of the room and is kissing me.

Now, can someone please tell me where this makes sense? I realize after a moment that I'm just standing there, allowing him to kiss me, and not making the slightest movement to respond to his action. I think I'm in shock. He finally pulls away with a hurt look across his face and I feel bad. But I honestly don't know what to think. My head is spinning faster than I can keep control of. I feel so dizzy and have the urge to sit in a corner and be alone. I can't take this anymore and I lose control as my body falls to the ground.

I open and my eyes and actually feel like I'm in a warm place. I'm laying on a very comfortable surface and try to survey my surroundings. I don't recognize where I am, which automatically causes me to become nervous. I'm not in a hospital, which I suppose is a good thing. I don't know how long I've been out, where I am, and if Roger is even here. I wouldn't be surprised if he just ran out and left me there, unconscious in the middle of the café.

I try sitting up a little and notice I'm in a bed, a very girly bed, to be exact. Maybe some girl came and rescued me, took me home, and is now going to nurse me back to health? Unlikely story. But then… it dawns on me as I hear the dreaded noise.

"Pookie! You're awake!" I hear Maureen scream from right outside the room.

I cover my ears and slink down back into position. "Not… so…. loud."

She covers her hand over her mouth and comes rushing to my side. She hands me a glass of water and practically forces it into my mouth. "Marky, you need to drink some water."

"Whoa, there," I reply as she pushes the glass into my hands. I gently sip the water and after I've drank more than half to satisfy her, I place it down on the side table. Dare I ask? I figure I must.

"Is… well…." I start, unable to formulate what I want to ask her.

"Roger here?" she finishes for me and I reply with a slight nod of my head. "Well, he was here, but he just left…"

I can tell by the tone of her voice she's holding out on me. She always gets like that when she knows something that isn't good, but doesn't want to tell me in fear that I'll go nuts or cry or something even worse.

"Did… he say… anything about… what happened?" I ask her, stopping frequently in fear that he did, and what she must be thinking right now.

"He just said that you two were eating at a café and then all of a sudden you fainted, no reason why," she replied, obviously with a curious tone in her voice. She knew something was up and that she was being denied information.

God, what Roger must think of me right now. He must hate me and never want to speak to me again. I feel horrible. I don't even know what to think, I mean, Roger, the manliest man I know, if that even is a word, just kissed me, the dorkiest person he probably knows. I mean, it's true. Why would he even be attracted to me, of all people? He could get any girl he wanted… and probably most guys too!

I realize that I've spaced out and Maureen is looking at me rather funny. I sit up on the edge of the bed. "Uh… I feel fine, so I probably should go."

"Not so fast, Marky, Roger specifically said that you should stay here until he gets back," she tells me.

"He's coming back?" I ask her, my voice cracking with every word.

"Of course, silly! Oh, I probably didn't mention that, did I?"

"Yeah, you failed to mention that part…" I reply to her with an evil glare on my face. Why would he leave me alone with Maureen, of all people? Is this punishment or something, because it sure feels like it! She drags me out of the bedroom into the living room and I realize I'm in Joanne's apartment. It actually makes a lot of sense, considering we were closer to their apartment than the loft. I make myself comfortable on the couch and she stays busy in the kitchen, a rather amusing sight if I say so myself. Maureen was never one for doing any type of work in the kitchen, cooking or cleaning alike. She must be uneasy about the whole situation.

"So where did Roger go?" I politely ask her, hoping that she'll at least tell me that.

"I'm not at liberty to say," she replies with a sly look on her face. Now I know something's really up. What could he be doing? Going to get a gun to shoot me in the face? Getting a tray of pies to throw at me and laugh? A knife to cut off my tongue? As each of them gets increasingly worse, I doubt Roger would actually consider doing them.

So here's the ultimate question, do I tell Maureen what happened? I mean, it could be a good idea. I could pick her mind for possible reasons why all this has happened. That or she'll start laughing at me. Then, when I'd tell her how I fainted after he kissed me, she probably would hit me over the head. That wouldn't be too nice either. So, I'll try to get other answers first.

"What was he like when he brought me over here? Was he upset?" I ask her, a question that I hoped wouldn't arouse too much suspicion.

"He didn't seem upset to me, he was worried. He was all fussing over you and I finally told him to chill out," she informs me.

A smile creeps over my face at her response and I can tell she noticed it as well. He was worried about me! That made me feel a little bit better, I suppose. But deep down inside he probably was angry. So angry that he probably went out and screamed at the top of his lungs. Once again, with the speculation.

"That's… good."

"Anyway… how _did_ things go last night when you got home?" she asks me, prying for more information. She's so nosy; she always has to be in other people's business, normally my business, and critiquing it.

"Well… we talked and such and yeah…" I replied, realizing she wouldn't be satisfied with that answer whatsoever. "And this morning we went shopping and had a fun time…"

"Have you been eating lately? I just don't understand why you would faint like that!" she says, oblivious to the fact that you can faint for other reasons.

"Yeah, I haven't been eating that great lately… but Roger's new job will hopefully change that, I mean… yeah… that has to be why I passed out, it makes the most sense," I told her; almost reassuring myself that was the reason.

She seems slightly convinced and relived by my response and goes back to doing something… I'm not even sure what. She's moving a bunch of stuff around in the kitchen and then mutters something, moves something else and continues this for a couple minutes. I watch her carefully and it gets to a point where I can't help but start laughing at her.

She stops at stares at me. "What's so funny, mister?" she says in such a serious tone.

"It's just… what the hell are you even doing?"

She huffs a little bit then comes over to stand by me. "Joanne hid the alcohol on me and I know she put it somewhere in one of these cupboards."

"That's… funny," is all I can reply without sounding rude or extremely mean. I continue laughing, considering the situation. I need a good laugh at this point.

"No it's not!" she says and continues in her search.

As I continue to laugh at her, I don't even notice the door open or Roger come into the room.

"What's so funny?" he asks and my head perks up to look at him. The laughing stops immediately and the uncomfortable silence seeps into the room.

"Well… Joanne hid all the alcohol from Maureen, and she's been rather advantageously looking for it… with no luck," I reply, hoping that my upbeat response would break the tension that was present.

"Ah, I see," he simply replies. I look him over and notice there's nothing too unusual about him. He didn't return with any bags, so that rules out a couple of my suspicions. I look for a weapon on him of any kind and it doesn't appear to be one. So, my life is safe for now. He walks over to the other couch across from where I was sitting and takes a seat.

"Feeling better?" he asks me timidly.

"Uh, yeah, I think so," I reply.

"Good… that's good."

Luckily for us, the phone decides to ring at that exact moment and Maureen jumps to grab it. She vibrantly answers it and it's clearly apparent it's Joanne on the phone. The whole time, I stare down at my feet, occasionally looking over to Roger, who is doing his best to keep his gaze away from my face. However, both of our attempts fail horribly when our eyes meet and we both quickly look away. Yeah, things are definitely not back to normal… they are to the point where we can't even look each other in the eye.

Maureen finally hangs up the phone and comes over to us. "Listen, Joanne is on her way home from work, and we were thinking, how about we make dinner for you boys?"

We both glance over at each other and it's obvious we both love the idea. The more time we spend with other people the better. The longer I have to ponder what the hell happened earlier today. I still haven't figured it out.

"Yeah, that would be great," I tell her. Roger nods his head in agreement and looks away from me. I can't tell if he's mad at me or if he just is really disappointed.

"Great! I'm going to run across the street and grab a couple things we need," she informs us.

"I could go!" Roger and I both say as we stand up in protest. We both look over at each other and the moment gets creepier by the second.

Maureen shakes her head at us and laughs for a second. "Don't worry guys, I can handle this. You two stay here."

Either Maureen is doing it on purpose to get us to talk or she's honestly a crazy person. I can't tell. My whole head is flooded with about fifty things at this point and I pray that I don't get overloaded again and faint again. Now, that would be great.

As soon as she closes the door, I know I'm doomed. I try to think logically now and figure out what to say. None of it makes sense logically, so I give up on that temporarily.

He stands up and starts pacing across the room. He's making me nervous and I want nothing more than everything to just go back to the way it was, when everything was fine and normal. Ha, normal. I guess we really have never had normal lives, so I suppose that's pointless to ask for.

"I can understand if you just don't feel the same way, but you gotta let me know," he tells me, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Uh…" I am unsure how to respond. Do I feel the same way? I don't know, is that what I've been afraid of this whole time? What I've been too afraid to admit?

"Never mind, let's pretend like it never happened," he says, walking away from me, obviously hurt by my response.

"No, that's not it," I blurt out. What am I doing? I don't even know. Maybe I'm too afraid to consider the truth. Maybe I do feel the same way. There's only one way to find out. I walk over to him and grab his arm to pull him back facing me. "Kiss me again."

"What? So you can faint again?" he replies rather sarcastically.

"No, not at all. I just… just do it."

"No Mark, I'm just not going to start kissing you because you told me so," he says, his voice getting louder by the syllable.

"I just… I need to know…" I mumble, hoping that he does what I desperately need him to do.

He steps closer to me and I feel his arm touch mine. He says quietly to my face, "What do you need to know?"

I can't bear to look up at him, so staring down at my hands I reply with, "I need to know if what I'm so desperately trying to hide is what I'm truly feeling."

It appears as if my answer was good enough for him because the next thing I feel is his warm lips pressed upon mine and his tongue venturing into my mouth. I try to comprehend the feelings I am experiencing, but they seem to be too numerous to count. It takes me a moment to realize I am kissing him back and how hard Roger is pushing into me. The next thing I know he's got me pressed up against the wall and I feel his hands, his magical hands, pulling on my hair.

He pulls away gently and has this curious smile upon his face. I suppose I do as well. What does it all mean? Am I in love with Roger? Am I gay? I'm not too sure, but I do know that I enjoyed kissing him and having his hands touching me. It was a feeling I haven't experienced since… well… I guess you could say Maureen and I dated, but it was much more magical than that. There was this connection, like no one else in the world mattered, that everything around us stood still, and it was us.

He cleared his throat and was obviously waiting for a response from me. I tried not to smile too outrageously, but I couldn't control it. Our eyes connected and I couldn't contain my emotions anymore. I smiled from ear to ear and he followed suit. He motioned for me to follow him over to the couch, so I did what I was told. We sat down by one another on the couch, each afraid to be the first one to speak.

"So… I think I know now," I tell him.

"Really?" his spirits get lifted as he turns and faces me. "What's the conclusion?"

"Well… I do have to admit, I really enjoyed that," I tell him, feeling my face getting rather red as I spoke every word.

He continued smiling at me and shifted closer to me on the couch. I could feel my heart beating even faster as our bodies touched. We sat like that for a moment, relaxing for a moment in our quite fucked up lives.

I pondered us for a moment. So what does that mean? Where does that put us? I'm too afraid to ask because I didn't want to ruin the beauty of the moment. But the temptation was too overwhelming. I turned to face him and said, "So… where does that put us?"

"Well… I'm not too sure. I'm surprised we've made it this far," he declares. I agree with him. For once we're not fighting and one of us isn't terribly depressed and avoiding the other. It's a nice feeling, I have to admit.

"I just… I don't get it… you never finished telling me how you got from sitting out on the balcony for six hours at a time to kissing me in the back of a restaurant," I say to him, hoping that it doesn't come out badly.

He laughs a little then turns to face me, "Yeah, I skipped around there a bit at the end."

"Uh… that's one way of looking at it."

"So, you're probably going to laugh at me when I tell you this, so you have to promise not to," he starts.

"I promise. Although, no guarantees especially if it's really funny," I reply.

"Well, here goes nothing," he says. "I was sitting on the couch one day and I watched you come in. You looked like shit; it was when you had that cold a couple of weeks ago. Anyway, the thought occurred to me what I would be like if you… you left me… if something ever happened to you and I was left to die alone."

I couldn't look at him anymore, it was too difficult. He continued on with his story, his voice getting quieter with every word. "And I couldn't imagine being without you at all. I realized at that moment that you've always been there for me, when I've needed you the most, and that you would never leave me. That you were my rock."

I'm trying to cover up the few tears that have begun forming in my eyes as he continues, "That's when it started. When I started to realize that it was entirely possibly I could be in love with you and didn't realize it. So, there you have it. You can laugh at me now."

He finishes, trying to add some humor into the story that was entirely too sad, and faces away from me. I'm facing away from him, wiping off the tears that have suddenly decided to occupy my eyes. I finally regain composure and turn back to face him.

I try smiling and tell him, "That was very nice of you to say."

He looks up at me and shrugs his shoulders. "I do what I can. Thank God Maureen didn't come in then, she would make fun of me for years for being all sappy."

"Yeah, she wouldn't be nice about it, that's for sure," as we slip back into our comfortable chatter.

"So… I mean… whatever," he says, obviously wanting to say something more, but afraid to.

"Yeah?"

"Well… you asked where that put us… and I was just going to say…"

I smile at him, shy Roger is often unseen and quite amusing when seen. "Don't be afraid, I'm not going to bite you, or faint again. Or at least I'll try not to."

"Good to know," is all he replies with. I figure I'll give him some help on this one.

"Let's not worry about anything right now… we'll just see what happens," I tell him. It's a good plan in reality, rushing into anything significant at this point could turn disastrous rather quickly, and in all honesty, I was still rather confused about everything. I didn't think I was gay, but I couldn't deny the attraction I was feeling for Roger. The way his body would touch mine sent chills up my spine.

"Yeah… that's a good idea…" he replies, content with my assertive answer. He grabs a hold of my hand and drags me over to the bathroom. He drags me inside and shuts the door and I'm quite confused by his actions.

"What are you…" I try to get out and am silenced by his hand placed over my mouth.

"I just… had to do this… and figured Maureen might be back soon," he tells me before grabbing the back of my head and brings my face in contact with his. Our lips meet, like two lost loves, and for the first time, we're kissing because both of us believe in us. The past two times have been exploratory, but this time it's different. We're stopped rather quickly, as the shrill of Maureen's voice echoes through the apartment. He gives me a small kiss on the cheek, a smile, and walks confidently out of the bathroom. I stay for a moment, regaining my composure, and walk back out into the living room.

Maureen eyes us both and gives us her 'look over'. She suddenly has this evil look on her face and it concerns me. She couldn't have possibly seen or known for that matter. She sets down a bag on the counter and then comes back over to us.

"What's with the silly looks on both of your faces? When I left you both looked like… not so happy to be stuck with each other," she asks us. I mean, that is a fair point. Maybe we shouldn't have been _that _obvious.

Roger steps up for both of us, "Uh, don't worry about it. We talked it out, it's all good."

Maureen eyes us both and doesn't seem convinced, "Well, that's good. Now you both can help me. And look…" she says, rushing back over to her bag of goods, "I bought more alcohol!"

Roger and I exchange glances of horror, considering we both know what happens when Maureen consumes a great portion of alcohol. Normally it involves her proclaiming her love for someone that she isn't currently dating, followed by making out with said person, followed by the person she really is dating getting angry (or in my case, getting sad) and leaving the room. Overall, a good time, wouldn't you say? Wonder why Joanne hid it in the first place…

"I'm going to freshen up and change real quickly, so if you two wouldn't mind starting to cut up all these vegetables, that would be super!" she tells us as she leaves the room.

"Sure…" we both mutter.

We head over to the counter and begin our medial task, when I feel Roger's hand touching the small of my back. His touch in undeniably electric and I respond to it. He leans into me and whispers into my ear, "You know, I haven't told you this yet, but all that other stuff, about why I like you, doesn't compare to the face that you are really cute, especially when I do something that makes you happy."

I know I'm blushing at his wonderful remark. I can hear Maureen washing up in the bathroom, so I know we're safe for at least a minute. I lean up to kiss him and he pulls me in to deepen the kiss. However, we're cut off again, this time for something we were definitely not anticipating.

"Uh… Mark? Roger? What the hell is going on?" We pull away from one another as Joanne's voice stings our ears from her position in the doorway. My stomach sinks and I suddenly have this terrible feeling wash over me. I think Roger feels the same way as well. Great…

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this chapter; **I'd _love_ to hear what you think in a review!** Thank you again for reading! 


	5. I Love Central Park

**Author's Note: **So, I had this chapter totally written and decided I hated everything I wrote, so scratched almost everything and started over. Let me know what you think, it helps for sure to know if I've taken this in the best way. I added in a little fluff, because who doesn't love a little Mark and Roger fluff! Anyway, thank you again to all my great reviewers! As always, Rent does not belong to me and I just use it for fun. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 5 – I Love Central Park**

**Mark's POV**

We glance at one another and both exhibit looks of horror on our faces. Joanne sets down her bags and walks over to the two of us, a look of shock still resonating on her face. We step apart from each other, acting as if nothing, but I don't think she's going to buy it. We don't have much time here, considering Maureen should be coming out of the bathroom any minute.

Roger steps in at this point and insists to her, "You can't tell Maureen."

"Tell Maureen what?" she asks in response.

"What you just saw, you can't tell Maureen, she'll… I don't know… go ape shit or something," he tells her. I second that with a fierce nod of the head.

"Well, I guess I could be persuaded not to let this information out if you two were to tell me what the hell is going on," she says to us. I turn to him, nudging him to give in to her demands only in hope that we wouldn't have to deal with Maureen and this any time soon.

He lets out a slight laugh before he begins with, "Mark and I… might have a little thing… but it's nothing huge yet, we're just taking it a day at a time. Good enough answer for you?"

The tone of his voice near the end of his statement is a bit harsh, but I know he's doing it to protect us. We're not even sure about what 'we' are yet and one of our friends accidentally finds out. Not exactly one of the best events to occur right after you've just declared some form of feelings for your best friend. It was awkward enough before and now… now it's worse.

She lets out a small sigh and relaxes her body. "Alright, but you'll have to tell her eventually and when she finds out I knew, she's not going to be happy."

"We'll deal with her later," I reassure both Joanne and Roger at the same time. I have some experience in the Maureen department and once I figure out what's going on between Roger and I, dealing with Maureen will be easy.

"Alright you two, how about we get back to getting dinner ready?" she says to the both of us and we nod in agreement. We slowly turn back to readying the vegetables as Joanne grabs the bags she came in with and starts preparing the other half of the meal. We quietly prepare our portion, occasionally glancing over at one another and giving little smiles. I never noticed that when Roger smiled, which seemed to be very uncommon lately, that how gorgeous he really is. I mean, obviously, I considered Roger to be a quite good looking guy to begin with, but now, knowing he's… well… sorta mine, it's all too surreal.

"Honey bear, you're home!" I hear Maureen squeal as she comes out of the bedroom. She runs over to Joanne and places a rather outrageous kiss on her lips while Roger and I just share looks of disgust. Although, I guess, we're not ones to talk anymore.

They break away and Joanne starts in on her, "I saw you went to the store and I noticed a rather interesting purchase."

"Oh, come on Joanne, we have guests!" she exclaims.

We both glance over at Joanne, who has that look on her face like she can't resist the charms of Maureen. I know it all too well, I suppose. Joanne smiles and says, "Alright, but please… just don't act like you did _last_ time."

Maureen gets that huge smile upon her face and places a gentle kiss on Joanne's cheek. "I promise, plus Mark and Roger are used to me!"

I smile at her remark and consider if Roger and I will ever have a relationship like Maureen and Joanne. I mean, obviously, not the parts where Maureen flirts with other girls, or in our case, guys, all the time, but the affection and adoration they have for each other in every situation. I suppose I might be getting ahead of myself here, considering not only a half hour ago I didn't even think I liked Roger like _that_. Imagine how fast things can change?

Maureen comes up and stands behind the both of us, placing a hand on each of us. "How are my favorite boys?"

We share a glance and reply simultaneously, "Great."

"You guys suck at doing that," she tells us, pointing to the pile of vegetables we had been working on preparing for the meal.

"Oh, well, we got sidetracked…" Roger comments, and I quickly add, "When Joanne came in."

She grabs my hand and pulls me away from Roger, "Marky, you can help me get everything organized and set up."

I try and protest, not wanting to be far from Roger, "But… can't you handle that yourself?"

"When can I honestly do anything by myself? Come on, it'll be fun, and you look like you need some fun," she says. I glance back at Roger and give him a sad smile and he just has a goofy look on his face. He's probably laughing at me behind my back as well.

After we've placed out everything down to four glasses of wine, Joanne brings out a couple of entrees she had picked up on her way home. Roger joins her shortly with the tray of veggies we had prepared and we all sit down to eat. It's quite an odd situation, if you really take the time to consider it.

The whole dinner consists of general gabber, which includes Maureen discussing her upcoming performance plans, how I should be taking better care of myself (in which I gave dirty looks to everyone at the table), and a rather funny story about one of Joanne's clients that involved a mentally insane man running naked through a courtroom. The entire time I could feel Roger's eyes burning my soul. Every time I would look across at him, I would smile and he would do the same. I noticed Joanne observing our quite suspicious behavior and giving me an evil glare. I laughed a little, but regained composure to avoid any questions from Maureen.

We finish and Roger and I start politely picking up the remnants. We get into the kitchen and put our first load in the sink when his hand brushes mine and turn to face him. I have that urge again to just start kissing him and I'm a bit concerned about where that is coming from. We know better this time and continue helping clean up our dinner. Joanne and Maureen start arguing about who knows what and we avoid getting in the middle of another one of their pointless fights. After we finish cleaning everything up, we walk back into the room and stand at the end of the table.

"Well… thanks for dinner, we probably should go, we've intruded enough already today," I tell them both, hoping that we could escape the lair as quickly as possible.

"But Mark you have to stay for some drinks!" Maureen pouts.

"Do you really think that's a good idea, Maureen?" I reply, dreading the possibilities if we stayed with Maureen and any large amounts of alcohol.

"Come on, it'll be fun!" she replies.

I can see the look of concern in Roger's eyes and before he can say anything to anger her, I reply to her, "I've had a long day, I'm feeling quite tired, I just want to go home." That whole fainting thing really has worked to my advantage I think.

"Alright, but next time I won't let you go so easily," she says with a wink.

Joanne and Maureen hand us some of the leftovers and we say our goodbyes. We head out of the apartment and I realize that this day has lasted forever. I can't believe it all started with waking up with Roger, going grocery shopping, relaxing in bed with Roger (in the completely platonic sense), going to a café where Roger proceeded to kiss me and I fainted, waking up at Maureen's, kissing Roger two more times (these times are for real), Joanne walking in on us kissing the second time, and dealing with Maureen and Joanne both at dinner. I don't think either of us has done that much in one day in a long, long time.

As soon as we walk outside, I feel the cold overtake me and the pleasant feelings that had warmed me up soon vanish with the snow that started accumulating all over me. I shake slightly at this first blast of cold air, but then continue following Roger down the street.

"I'm surprised we got out of there alive," I comment after catching up to Roger, who was walking quite rapidly.

"You think Joanne will tell Maureen?" he asks with a somewhat concerned tone in his voice. We hadn't had the chance to talk about things again since 'it' happened, but I knew he was worried about it. Maureen knowing would be disaster for us and we both knew it. I don't even know about 'us' right now, except to say that I really enjoy kissing Roger and every time he touches me it makes me feel all warm inside.

God, I sound like a teenage girl who's got a crush on the cute, popular guy. I realize I haven't replied to him yet, continuing to get lost in my thoughts. He snaps me out of it with a simple question, "Penny for your thoughts?"

"Oh, sorry. I got to thinking. You know me… thinking about everything," I reply.

"Any epic thoughts?" he asks.

"You mean the story to the great American film? No, nothing about that. I don't think Joanne will tell Maureen. But who knows, she could surprise us."

He shrugs his shoulders, "Yeah, you're probably right."

We continue walking as it continues to snow. When will this snow stop, seriously! However, we arrive back at the loft soon enough and I am temporarily done being annoyed with the powdery precipitation. We brush off the mountain of snow that's accumulated on our jackets and make the trek up the stairs to our space. He opens the door and puts the leftovers Joanne forced us to take on the nearest table.

I follow him in the loft and collapse on the couch. While climbing up the stairs it really hit me how tired I am. I feel like a truck ran me over, it's that bad. I just want to curl up in a warm bed and go to sleep.

I close my eyes for a moment and feel Roger sit down beside me. I open them back up to see him looking away from me. Now we're back in the loft and we could do whatever we wanted… without the chance of being walked in on. That's a good thing… right?

"I can't believe how tired I am," I tell him.

"Hell, you look like you just got beat up by a guy twice your size," he replies.

"Thanks, real comforting words there…" I throw back.

"I didn't mean it like that…." is his response to my statement. He pauses a second before continuing with "You wanna climb into bed again and wrap ourselves in all the blankets again?"

"Actually, that sounds amazing." We both stand up and head into my room. He starts organizing the mess that we made earlier and I throw on a different sweater to sleep in.

I pick up my camera and bring it over away from the bed, away from danger. Who knows if Roger might have the urge to act like a dragon or whatever that was again, but I figure I should play it safe. As soon as I turn around, I watch as he leaps into the heap of blankets and dives underneath the pile. I slowly walk towards the bed and pull back a couple of blankets so I can join him.

I wade through the sea of blankets and find him with a silly look on his face. He proceeds to pout at me and comments, "Why didn't you make a grand entrance?"

"I was supposed to make a grand entrance?" I smirk back.

"Well… I figured after all that I did you might have some form of response," he responds.

"You are just too much," I reply, smiling at him as I roll over back to my side of the bed. I've almost made it completely there as I feel his hand grab my side and pushes me back towards him.

"Yes?" is my response to his action. He's got a sly look on his face and I can see him planning something in that head of his.

Without a verbal response to my question, he starts attacking me through the blankets and he's… well… he's tickling me? I have no time to response as he has me trapped and I can't control the laughter that overcomes me. I'm screaming as he tickles me everywhere possible, my sides, my feet, and my arms. He found out a couple of years ago where my ticklish points are and apparently has been storing that information for later use. My arms and legs are flaring and I see the blankets flying every which way.

"No, stop… Roger, seriously… I'm going to die… you're going to tickle my organs out of my body," I scream out in between my laugher and try to break away from his death hold on me. He finally seems to get tired and collapses right next to me. I still have tears formed in my eyes and wipe them away. He knows how to make me feel better, although I suppose in a sick and evil sort of way.

We sit there silent for a moment before he sits up to face me. We're still underneath the blankets and our space gets smaller by the second. Being with him suddenly becomes something I've never felt before with anyone, not even Maureen. We need each other in ways we never did before and I can tell our relationship changing even further.

He leans closer into me and can feel my heart beating faster as our mouths finally connect. He rolls on top of me and I feel his body pushing onto mine and I don't even mind. I stroke his wonderfully soft hair and grab a hold of him, never wanting to let go. Our tongues play a tango and I enjoy the way he's so forceful on me, he's always in control. It's so comforting to feel him want to be with me, to touch me, and to care about me. I once considered that since Roger always had such a fierce way with his music he had to be the same way when he was with his girls. I guess I was right.

We both pull away when we realize we've worked up quite a sweat underneath the mountain of blankets. We peek our heads out from them and glance back over at each other. I was having far too much fun today and I knew that this day couldn't last forever. That eventually all these happy times would come to an end. Maybe he'd come to realize that he was just crazy and that he didn't have these feelings for me. But the way he looks at me, I just have to believe that he does.

We're both sitting in silence as I continue to ponder our situation. I can't even describe in words how amazing it is when I'm kissing him. It's like I never want it to stop. But I know the reality of the world and I know we don't have forever. I know I won't have him forever to tickle me or jump into bed with. And by jump into bed, I meant literally jumping into the bed. I hadn't even thought about us… I don't even know if he'd let us. He probably would get all protective and insist that it's too dangerous and that he'd never want me to see me get the disease. I would imagine that's what he'd say. I'd love to ask him, but I'm afraid it's too soon.

I'll enjoy tonight and worry about everything later. He grabs my hand under the blanket and holds it tight. We fall asleep like that; hand and hand, and I know tonight we'll both be sleeping peacefully.

* * *

**Four Weeks Later**

I wake up alone to the sounds of a guitar quietly playing in the room next door. Lately Roger's taken up waking up early and playing his guitar as the sun rises. I haven't asked him why, he just does it. Some times I'll just watch him from the bedroom and observe his grace when it comes to playing the guitar. I have yet to get him on film, but I don't want to disrupt him, it's too peaceful.

The past four weeks have been such an improvement from where I was physically and mentally. I suppose I owe it all to Roger. I went to work with him one day to see what he was doing and I could see the happiness in his eyes like he used to have. The 'good' days, before April and the drugs, before Mimi, when he used to play with his band and have this look of shear and pure happiness on his face at all hours of the day. He's like that again for the most part.

We occasionally fight about little stuff, but we always end up making up… and making out. I guess I could say I've initiated a couple of fights for that exact reason, but I'd be lying… well, only a little.

I get up out of bed and head into the living area. He sees me enter and gives me his morning smile. I walk over to him and kiss him on the cheek, "Good morning."

"Morning," he replies, the same as every time. I go over to the kitchen and start making tea while he returns back to picking his guitar, something I don't recognize. He's really been writing a lot lately and I only wonder if I have something to do with his creative inspiration returning, but I don't want to sound conceded. I listen to his melodies while I prepare my tea and stare out the window. It's finally stopped snowing and it's starting to be at least a little bit warm in the loft. We still sleep underneath the heap of blankets and have a pillow fight every night.

Think about it all, I can't believe how routine our lives have become. We do the same things, but rarely do anything different. We haven't told anyone about 'us' yet and there really officially isn't an 'us'. We discussed it once, two weeks ago, but it ended up turning into a screaming match, so I've opted not to bring it up again any time in the near future. Joanne still is the only one that knows and has yet to tell Maureen. Needless to say, we thank her every time we see her.

I grab my tea and sit down across from Roger on the couch. He sets his guitar down and comes to sit down beside me. I rest my head on his shoulder and relax. He's so comforting.

"What should we do today?" I ask him.

"Well… I actually had something planned for us today," he replies and I sit up to look at the smile on his face.

"Really now? Is it a surprise?" I say with excitement in my voice.

He shrugs his shoulders a bit and replies, "I guess so. Go get dressed and we can go. And you can bring your camera."

I finish my tea and go into my room. I change quickly and gather up my camera. We're obviously doing something I'm going to be happy about and he knows if I didn't have my camera I would get sad and he'd have to deal with me for a week about it. So I grab my bag and walk back into the living room ready to go.

"You ready?" he says to me and I nod in reply. We head out and I'm excited for a little break in our routine.

* * *

As soon as we walk out of the subway station, I know right away where we are. I had a sinking suspicion the entire time on the subway where we were going, but as soon as we reached the outdoors and I saw it, my heart leapt. He brought me to my favorite place in the city to film: Central Park.

"Roger, you brought me to Central Park," I exclaim, wishing I could just jump on him and kiss him right there.

"Yes I did. I thought we could walk around and you could film… whatever you film," he says with a proud look on his face.

"Really? Can I film you as well?" I ask him, considering he normally hates it when I film him. Lately I've tried filming him more, but he gets angry and shuts himself in his room.

"Uh… I guess… but you can't just film me the whole time… you better film other shit too, like kids playing or something happy like that."

We start walking through the park and I film everything, the sky, the trees, adults, children, the pond, and Roger. I point my camera at him occasionally and he tries to grin and bear it, obviously wishing he hadn't given into my simple request. However, he was the one that brought me here. I just absolutely adore filming this park, it always has so many interesting things going on to film.

We walk near the center and find a bench to relax on. I put my camera down for the time being and he grabs my hand and puts it in his. It sends shockwaves through my entire body because Roger hardly is affectionate in public. It's not because it's the two of us, he never was like that to April or Mimi as well.

"So, I was thinking about our fight we had two weeks ago," he starts. "About us… well… being more than what we have."

I glance up at him, unsure where he was taking this. He probably decided that he was acting irrationally and that he didn't really like me. Bringing me to Central Park to lighten the blow, I suppose.

"And?" I respond.

"Uh… I feel bad for yelling at you. I'm sorry. I'm the one that started this whole thing between us and now I'm going back to my asshole self and… I know that we're both still unsure what's happened between us…" he tells me.

I say softly, "Yeah…"

"Anyway, what I wanted to ask you, is that, well… I think I'm ready to admit that… God, I'm such a girl," he pauses to laugh at himself. "Well, I'm ready to admit that I think whatever we have is something for real and well, I figure we should make it official. You know, tell everyone, Collins, Maureen…"

My eyes light up at his stuttered speech because that's all I was wishing he'd say to me. That what we had was for real. I smiled at him and replied, "Wow Roger, of course. Yes. I've been thinking the same thing… I think what we have is for real."

He leans in and kisses me gently, a soft light kiss on the lips, nothing like the hard, fierce kisses I'm used to when we're back at the loft. This one is sincere and perfect. He pulls me up and grabs me into his arms. I feel so safe with him and I just want to scream for everyone to hear.

I love Central Park.

* * *

**Thank you again for reading and reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	6. How Things Came To Be

**Author's Note: **Another chapter for all of you to enjoy! Thanks again to all of you who have reviewed! I love all of you! I hope you enjoy this chapter, I answer some questions (finally) and make some more. So, enjoy! Once again, Rent doesn't belong to me, I'm just using it for fun. Thanks for reading!

* * *

**Chapter 6 – How Things Came To Be**

**ROGER'S POV**

We're standing outside of Maureen and Joanne's apartment and I suddenly feel the urge to vomit. Why are we doing this again? Oh, that's right, because Mark wants to. As much as I care about him, I'd rather not have to deal with Maureen being Maureen… either a complete bitch or totally crazy. I'm guessing we're going to see both sides tonight. He slowly brings up his hand to knock and I can see the horror on his face as well. He gently knocks and I cross my fingers secretly, hoping that they didn't hear us.

Unfortunately my wish isn't granted as I see the door open up. Maureen squeals in excitement, something undecipherable, and grabs Mark in a large hug. I stand back as she pulls him away from me and then releases him. She looks over at me, gives me a disgusted look, but pulls me into a hug.

"Well, don't look so happy to see me," I reply to her look as she hugs me.

"I'm so happy to see both of you! You guys never visit me anymore and never want to hang out, what's that about?" she says as she leads us into their apartment. We both move into the center of the room and sit down. I need to do this sitting down.

"Uh, actually, that's kind of why we're here," Mark tells her, uneasy, and I can see the nerves showing in the tone of his voice. I grab his hand and give it a squeeze. I told him I'd tell Maureen because I didn't care how she'd react to me. Mark would take it much differently if she was reacting to him. I swear that kid never got over her, but I'm hoping that's not the case anymore.

"Well?" she says in a demanding voice. God, I can't stand her at all.

"You remember when I brought Mark over here because he fainted?" I start with. She nods her head so I continue. "I kissed him and he fainted."

"You kissed Mark?" Maureen says as she starts to laugh. Great, she's going to mock me.

"Yes, you stupid bitch, I kissed Mark because, God, I haven't even told this to him yet, but, I love him," I snap back at her and turn to face Mark. I watch as his face turns bright red and he looks like he's got that dumbstruck look on his face.

"You… you love me?" he quietly states. I lean in and whisper in his ear, "Are you kidding me, you think I'd be crazy enough to kiss a guy that I wasn't totally in love with?"

He blushes even more brightly at my comment and looks away. I see that cute smile creep over his face. I hear Maureen loudly clear her throat at the two of us.

"How… isn't that cute," she remarks. "So, what, are you two fucking like rabbits or something?"

We both shift uneasily in our seats. It's a topic we skit around the edges and are both afraid to discuss. I would never want him… to have to deal with this shit I go through and God knows that we never could be a 100 safe. I don't know if I could chance it… to play with his life like that. I've never asked him what he thinks. Maybe we'll save that fight for later.

"Uh…" we both stutter, not particularly wanting to ask the invasive question.

I finally just decide to be man enough to stand up to Maureen and reply, "No."

"Well, I see." She pauses and I can see a little smirk come across her face. "Well, isn't this cute. Wait until I tell Joanne."

Mark speaks up at this point, "Uh, no need. She kind of already knows."

"What do you mean, she already knows? She knew and she didn't tell me?" her words getting whinier by the word.

"Yeah, because we asked her not to, since when she found out it was all knew to us, and we didn't want things to get fucked up by you messing in our lives," he snarls back to her and I'm quite impressed with the anger in his voice. I think I'm rubbing off on him a little.

"So how about you just chill the fuck out and be happy for us?" I add in. Have to add in my daily angsty comment. I try not to ever make it at Mark, but sometimes he's all I've got. However, Maureen so willingly at my disposal is just too easy to use it on her. I have to admit, I've never really cared for her since she hurt Mark and now I've even begun to loather her even more. She's always acted like she cares for him, but she just uses him.

She plops down on the couch and I see her look at the both of us. I'm still latched on his hand tightly, now only to remain calm.

"So… you two are dating or something?" she asks this time, with a calmness that I know she's trying to be nice.

"I guess you could say that," Mark replies to her.

"The four of us should go on a double date!" she says in that excited voice of hers. Oh you have to be kidding me, a double date with them and us? It spells disaster.

"Uh…" we both stutter and I know Mark is thinking the same horrible thoughts.

"I think we're busy," I quickly reply before Mark has the chance to do the nice thing and say yes.

"But I didn't even tell you guys when, come on, I'd be fun, you know it would," she says with that evil smile on her face.

"Define 'fun'", I mutter under my breath.

"You two never want to have fun anymore," she says with a hint of anger in her voice.

"Fine," Mark gives in to her request and I look at him with my saddest look I could manage. He gives me a 'what do you expect' look back and I have to agree with him. One date, get her off our backs, and then we can ignore her forever. I wish.

"Really?" she says excitedly and claps her hands together in response.

"Sure… why not," I add in.

"This will be great, I know it. I don't think Joanne has to work tomorrow night, so if you two aren't busy…"

The quicker we got this over with the better, "No, we aren't busy."

She lets out a small scream and grabs us both for a hug, "I promise we'll have fun."

"Don't worry, I won't hold you to that," I quirk back.

"Stop being such an ass, Roger," Maureen says as she pulls away from hugging Mark.

"Well… this has certainly been the highlight of my day, but Roger and I have to be going," he interjects and I couldn't be happier with him at that point. "Tell Joanne we say hello?"

"Of course," she pauses before she continues. "I'm really happy for you two. It's about time you both found someone that can deal with each of your own… individual… quirks." I suppose there's a compliment in there somewhere. She leads us out and we both say our goodbyes to the drama queen.

I grab his hand as we walk out, it's become our new little 'thing'. I see him blush and can't help but smile back. He's really so adorable. We're out of earshot of Maureen's apartment when I notice him laughing.

"What's so damn funny, Mr. Cohen?" I ask him.

"Oh, nothing. I can't believe I sort of stood up to Maureen," he replies with a goofy grin on his face.

"Yeah, I think I'm wearing off on you a little bit, so I'm proud of you."

He lets out a little laugh in response and we continue our banter all the way back to the loft. We ease back into our usual routines and end up falling asleep, on top of one another, peacefully resting on the couch.

* * *

I wake up first, as usual, and gently weave my way out of my position next to Mark. I kiss him on the forehead, like every morning, and gently place all the blankets closer to him. The morning is my time to think. I don't know if I think the air is clearer or something, but I always can get my best writing done as the sun is rising. I grab my guitar and walk over to the ledge next to the window. I lean back and remember. The moment is stuck forever in my memory…

**2 Months Ago**

Mark looks like shit. Seriously, it's not funny. I saw him walk in and slink back into his room without saying anything. Normally he says hello, but lately I've been ignoring him. Why? I honestly feel bad. Me, Roger Davis, actually feels bad for someone. That someone being my roommate, who've I made a point to push out of my life as best as I could the past 8 months. Before, it was because I couldn't deal with his fake cheeriness, always telling me that everything would be fine, that I'd get over Mimi like I got over April. It was different this time. I cared so much more for Mimi than I ever did for April.

Now, I'm pushing him away because I can't bear to bring him back into my life. I can't look into his bright eyes and let him down again. I've done the best I could to make my life miserable and now that I actually want to do something with what's left of my life, I can't do the one thing that seems the easiest to do. That's help my roommate who's pushing himself deeper into the hole.

I strum the strings of my guitar, none of the notes making any sense anymore. I put the guitar down and suddenly feel motivated to go talk to Mark. I walk over to his door and place a hand on the frame. I want to make the first step at reconciling what we had, but I don't know if I'm strong enough.

I back away slowly and find myself back on the couch, lying face up. I weigh my options. I jump up and grab my coat. I need to go for a walk.

As I'm about to leave I feel Mark come out of his room. It feels like his eyes are always burning my back. I hear him quietly ask, "Going somewhere?"

"Just for a walk," I reply, unable to summon the energy to say anything more than that. He nods and I make my way out of the loft and down the stairs.

I'm walking briskly down the street without a destination. I shove my hands in my pockets and make my way through the streets. I glance at familiar faces, some that I haven't seen in awhile. I glance at the not so familiar faces and see a group of tourists, lost, and I can't help but laugh at them. I'm looking down ahead of me when I accidentally run into someone larger than me, and their weight throws me back a bit.

"Hey, sorry man," the larger man says, grabbing my hand to help me back up.

"No problem," I reply and glance up to examine the stranger. Turns out it isn't a stranger at all, it's Ryan, who used to be in a band that was always performing at the same venues as my band. Our two bands got to be close and would always do performances together. Turns out both of our bands broke up around the same time.

"Shit, Ryan, is that you?" I remark.

"Roger? How the hell have you been?" he says as he grabs me for a hug. It's good to see him, that's for damn sure.

"Surviving… barely, what have you been doing… what has it been? Three years?" I inquire. It couldn't possibly be that long since I've played in a band… but in all reality, it was longer than that.

"Too long, man, seriously. You still play?"

"Oh, I still fool around on my guitar all the time, but not in a band… not since… well… yeah…" I answer.

"Really? I'm actually working at this great studio and we're in need of a good guitarist. You interested?" he asks and I can feel my heart start to race. Me? Play guitar for a studio?

"Seriously?" I question his proposition. It sounds too good to be true.

"Yeah! I'm dead serious. I remember you man, you had some good skills. We're in need of someone like you. How about you come on over and check it out? It couldn't hurt… and it looks like you could use some money and food."

He couldn't have been more right. If I could work, pay for food, Mark would be so proud. I could help him get better. This would be great.

"Sure… why the hell not?" I mean, I can go look around, and see if the place is legit. I don't think Ryan would work any place that wasn't for real. So… here goes nothing…

A day for the record books. I, Roger Davis, am officially employed! At a really cool studio too, they let me fool around on sweet guitars and I get to play with some people who are the shit. It's basically amazing. I can't wait to tell Mark.

But wait… I'm not really talking to Mark. How can he expect to be excited for me when I've been ignoring him for months? I wouldn't blame him if he decided to hate me for getting a job. He'll probably claim 'I'm selling out' and that he'll never want to speak to me again. Sometimes he's too pretentious and it bugs the shit out of me. But other times I know he means good.

I arrive back at the loft and realize he's not here. I set my coat down and grab my guitar. I have this sudden urge to start writing and playing again. I strum through a couple notes when I hear the door creak open. I see Mark hesitantly walk in, his camera in his one hand, and a package of some sort in the other.

He gives me a weak smile then moves into his room. I want to run into his room and hug him and tell him everything. He's like the one person I can rely on for anything and I know he'd be happy for me.

The realization hits me why I feel this way. Mark is the one person in my life that has been constant – he's always been there for me when I've needed him – and he always wants me to be happy. I always want him to be happy and I can't stand to see him like this. Isn't that what love is? Finding the one person that will make you happy and you want to make happy?

Am I in love with Mark Cohen?

God, that sounds horrible to even consider. I'm not gay, that's for damn sure. I start pacing around and can't believe even myself what I'm thinking right now. I can't love Mark, or could I? I mean… we've always had this thing between us… but it's a best friend thing, isn't it?

I'm pacing around for at least twenty minutes pondering these thoughts. I want to push them out of my brain as fast as they came in, but something's telling me not to. That part of me is saying it all adds up. There's not one person besides Mark that I want to be excited about my new job. God, I'm such a girl.

I better think about this some more.

**Present Day**

I begin playing the song I've been working on for the past two weeks. I scribble down a couple more words and try to make them work. I guess you could say it's about how I realized how I cared for Mark. I want to play it for him to explain everything. I've still got work to do on it, but that's why I get up early to work on it.

I look over at his sleeping figure, so peacefully resting on our battered couch, curled up in his little ball form. He's getting healthier and it makes me feel better. I don't have to feel like such a jerk when he's pestering me to eat and take my AZT when I can pester him back to eat as well.

I see him waking up, tossing and turning in the blankets, so I place the guitar down and walk over to sit down beside him. I lean down and place a gentle kiss on his forehead and see his eyes pop open.

* * *

**MARK'S POV**

My eyes open as I feel his lips gently press on my forehead. I smile at him and return his kiss with one of my own. I know he's been up working on whatever he's working on, so I pull him into the heap of blankets I've got covering me. He wraps his hands around me and squeezes me tight. I love waking up to this in the morning.

We lay like that for a couple minutes, neither of us wanting to accept that the day has begun. He finally gets up when he has to go to work. After he leaves, I clean up the apartment a bit. We've become quite the lazy couple and spend the majority of our time laying on the couch or doing who knows what, but it's definitely not cleaning this mess.

I straighten up the living room to semi-normal and clean the bathroom a little, mostly just rubbing some water over the dirty spots. I move to start cleaning all the dirty dishes we've accumulated over the past couple of weeks.

I'm picking up a couple of dirty bowls when I hear the phone ring. Of course, I don't run over to get it, but wait for the 'Speak' to sound and listen to the message that rings through.

"Hey boys, it's Collins, I'm going to be in town for the weekend… so if you want to stop screening and pick up the damn phone…"

I cut him off as I pick up the phone, "Collins!"

"Mark, my favorite filmmaker, how's Avenue B handling without me?" he says with his cheerful voice. I've missed him, that's for sure.

"Oh, it's rough, but we're surviving. Where are you at?" I ask, normally he doesn't call in advance and just arrives.

"Look down out your window in about two minutes," he says as I hear the phone go dead. I hang up the phone and run out to the window with the keys, our usual routine.

I see him smile up at me and I throw the keys down to him, "About time you came home!"

"I know, I'm overdue," he responds, making his way to the door as I make my way back inside.

I run over to the door where he's entering and he drops down his bag to pull me into a hug. We both latch on to each other pretty tight, knowing that it's been far too long.

"How's Roger been?" he asks me and I can tell he's a bit hesitant asking the question.

"Great actually… really great. You'll have to wait until he gets home to see… but he's… well…" I stop, unsure if I should let Collins know our big secret or wait until he got home. He'd probably be pissed if I told him without him. "…well, needless to say, just wait until he gets home."

"Big secrets, I see… and you, you are looking a little bit better than the last time I saw you," he remarks, looking me over, probably criticizing my small frame.

"Yeah, a lot of good things have been happening around here for once," I say with a smile on my face.

"I can see… is that a bowl of fresh fruit over there on the counter?" he points to the fruit that we have become in the habit of buying. It's healthier and tastes good.

"Yeah, that's part of the whole thing. I wish Roger would get home, I'm bursting with excitement to tell you," I jump a little and know that Collins would be the most understanding and excited of our friends about our new relationship.

"Well, I know he'd want to be here to tell you, so why don't you tell me what's going on with you?" I say, trying to avoid temptation to just spill everything… Roger kissing me, fainting in the middle of a crowded restaurant, our cute day in Central Park, and the way we're finally both taking care of each other.

We chat the afternoon away, he tells me about the group of students he's teaching now that's taken up a following with his theories, I tell him about my new movie ideas, and we both share stories we've heard about Maureen and Joanne. We're both in the middle of enjoying a drink when the loft door slides open.

Roger drops his coat and bag, "Collins! About damn time you came home again!"

Collins gets up to greet Roger, who pulls the larger man in for a hug. They stay there for a second and pull away when Collins says, "Man, you both are freaking me out. Now that Roger's back, how about you tell me what's been going on without me?"

Roger gives me a look and I smile at him. He comes over to sit beside me on the couch and I know he just wants to lean in to kiss me at that moment. He refrains for a second, but I see him smile as he leans in and gives me a kiss on the cheek.

"Okay, so what the hell was that?" Collins remarks to Roger's action with laughter in his voice.

"Well… that's how we've been doing so well. Roger and I… are… Roger and I," I inform him, sounding like a teenage girl who's just snagged the cute boy.

"You two are kidding me? Out of all our friends, you two turn out to be gay," he says in between laughs. "All kidding aside, I'm so excited for you two. You both finally look happy… not like you're two seconds away from death."

"How'd it happen? Did you two get each other confused for a really hot girl and then just decided you didn't mind the fact you were kissing a dude?" Collins joked.

"Not… exactly," Roger smirked at Collins' joke.

"No, Roger decided to kiss me in the middle of a busy restaurant, then I fainted, and well… we worked through that whole mess… and the rest is history."

"You fainted, Mark? Real nice way to respond to a guy kissing you," Collins says, smacking me over the head.

"Ow… thanks Collins. Don't worry, I've already heard it from him plenty," I turn back to smile at Roger and kiss him on the cheek.

"You two are like two girls," Collins remarks to our display of affection.

"Speaking of two girls… we have to dine with our favorites this evening," Roger comments. I know he's dreading spending any sort of time with Maureen and Joanne, so I can sense the dread seeping from his voice.

"Oh, our favorite drama queen and lawyer?" Collins asks.

"Yeah, who else? You should come with us!" I exclaim.

"Yes, Collins, you need to come with us," Roger adds.

"Afraid of a night out with the girls?" Collins replies to our pleas.

"You have no idea," we both mutter underneath our breath.

"Alright, I'll go. But first I have to go visit a couple other friends' that I promised I'd visit tonight. I'll meet you at the Life at what time?" he asks.

"7, we're meeting at 7," I tell him.

"Great, I'll see you two later," Collins says, shutting the door to the loft.

We're finally alone and Roger literally jumps on top of me, his mouth crashing into mine as he comes down. His hands start exploring my entire body and he's kissing me with more passion, more fire in his eyes, than I've ever seen before. I push my hands into his hair, pushing it away from his beautiful face that I've grown quite accustomed to touching. His kissing is harder and harder and I feel his tongue dancing around mine in ways I've never experienced before.

His hand travels down my entire leg and I feel the heat rising between our two bodies. He brings his hand back up to my face and just holds my face, while he kisses my neck. He pulls away after a minute with a wide smile across his face.

"Happy to see me?" I joke at him.

"You have no idea," he replies leaning in to kiss me on the cheek again. Seeing him pour his emotions into me like that, I know something's wrong. I'll ask him about it later, but I don't want to get into a fight before we go to dinner. I'll have to accept the fact that Roger is still Roger and will occasionally be stand off-ish. I'll still love him for it. Great… now I get to spend an evening with Maureen and Joanne… kill me now.

* * *

Once again, thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think at all in a review! Any suggestions are welcome! 


	7. It All Comes Back to the Cold

**Author's Note: **I know, you probably weren't expecting this to be the end, but I think this is a perfect spot to end. I'm really pleased with what I've developed in this story and I'll be back soon enough with a new story of some sort, so look out for that. Thank you again to **EVERYONE** who's reviewed or even just read. Tell me what you think of the ending, I couldn't help but being all cutesy at the end. Once again, Rent belongs to Jonathan Larson and I just use it for fun! Thanks for reading!

* * *

**Chapter 7 – It All Comes Back to the Cold**

**MARK'S POV**

The night air is crisp as Roger and I walk hand in hand down the empty street. Although spring is doing her best to move in over the weary city, winter is still ever present. I wrap my scarf around my neck tighter as we walk. The walk is short as we arrive at our predestined destination. Roger grabs the door for me and I walk in first. I scan the room to see Maureen and Joanne sitting at a table near the back. I give a weak wave as we walk over to the table.

They both stand up and individually hug us. Joanne grabs me and whispers, "I'll try to make this bearable." I give her my best smile back and reach over to hug Maureen, whose response is, "I'm so excited!"

We all sit down and glance across the table at each pair. I begin the already tension ridden conversation, "Oh, Collins is going to join us in awhile."

"Collins is in town?" Maureen responds excitedly.

"Yeah, he stopped by earlier," I say as I glance over the menu.

"Well, it's about time he visited, it's been far too long," Joanne comments.

"Agreed," I add as I glance over at Roger who's taken an interest in staring out the window instead of conversing with us.

"So, I hear you told Maureen your happy news," Joanne says to the both of us. "I'm assuming that means things have gotten better since I accidentally… caught the two of you."

"Yeah, things have been a lot better… right Roger?" I say, nudging Roger in the side. He turns to face the group finally with a somewhat angry expression on his face.

"Oh, yeah, things have been just great," he remarks and I can't tell by the tone in his voice if he's being for serious or not. He's been acting so strangely tonight and I'm worried about what.

"What's your problem?" Maureen quickly snaps at him. I worry that this could get ugly soon and pray that Collins arrives soon.

"Nothing, it's nothing," he says with his 'I'm upset, but I'm going to suppress my feelings' tone. He hasn't acted like this since we've started dating and I become increasingly worried. I feel the cold air overtake me and I have the urge to run away before all the happiness runs away without me.

I turn in to face him and whisper to him, "What the hell, Roger?"

He whispers back at me with an even harsher tone, "We'll talk about it later, okay?"

I lean back up and decide a change of subject is in order. "So, Joanne, have any good stories to share with us during this dinner?"

She opens her mouth to answer, but instead is interrupted by Maureen's screaming. She gets up to run over to hug Collins and drags him over to the table. Joanne stands up as well to give him a hug and I pull up a chair for our fifth member. He finally sits down after being attacked by the ladies.

"Hey Mark, Hey Roger," he says to the two of us. We both nod, "Hey" back, and continue back into our uncomfortable situation.

"Have we ordered yet?" Collins asks the collective group. We all chip in answers of "not yet" as our waiter makes his way up to our table.

"Can I take your orders?" he asks the table and we all shake our heads in agreement.

"I'll have the soup and a salad, please," Maureen orders.

"Pasta," Joanne simply orders.

"Uh… I guess just the tofu burger," Roger decides on.

"Tea and the miso soup, please," I chip in.

"Pasta as well," Collins finishes and the waiter leaves our table.

I glance around the room in the way I do when I'm at the helm of my camera. The Life Café is always such an interesting place; I almost wish I could just film it continuously. I'm taken out of my haze when I feel three pairs of eyes staring at me.

"Mark? Are you listening?" Collins asks and I come back to reality.

"What? No, sorry," I shake my head and face the rest of the table. Roger's attitude really had me distracted. "What were you saying?"

"Oh, just wondering if you've done any interesting filming lately?" Collins asks. I shrug my shoulders in reply. "Not really… the usual. I haven't had the chance to go through a lot of the stuff I've gotten lately."

"Keeping busy?" Collins says with that sly smirk on his face and I can't help but blush at his comment. I want to reply with, you could say that, but I can't bring myself to do it, now, anyway.

"Oh, the usual," is my only reply. I glance back over to Roger who I see with a distant look on his face. I want to smack him and get him out of his lousy mood. I definitely did not miss the old Roger, the Roger who wouldn't talk to me when something was wrong, the Roger that would hide in his room and do nothing all day, and the Roger that pushed me out when he needed me most. I don't want to lose what we have, it's too special to me.

"How about you, Roger? Write any good songs lately?" Collins asks and I fear the response that might be evoked.

He glances over to Collins and a smile peers across his face. A sigh of relief passes over me with his response, "Oh, I've been working on something. Although, it's taking me forever, as usual."

"I wouldn't expect anything less than a year a song, Roger," Collins jokes back. I smile at Roger and he returns it back.

"I hope it doesn't take me that long," Roger adds in. I know he's been working on a new song; it's why he gets up early in the morning. I secretly hope it's for me, but that's my ego speaking.

"And what about you, Miss Maureen? Will I be seeing you on the eleven o'clock news any time soon?" Collins turns to talk to the drama queen and we're off the hook temporarily. I can not possibly think of a large enough way to thank Collins for coming with us tonight. Spending the entire night with those two alone could have been a disaster, as we've already seen.

She's rambling on and I catch the end, "…and then I was thinking about lighting a large couch on fire at the end! What do you think?"

I roll my eyes, knowing that whatever she's planning sounds like trouble. I can see Roger react the same and Collins choke back doing the same. "It sounds very interesting, Maureen. When will this be?" he asks.

"Oh… I haven't really decided," she casually comments. Joanne just mumbles something and I have to choke back a laugh. I remember reacting the same way when I dated her, the 'being supportive, but I think you're totally crazy' look.

"Well, it sounds like a great plan," Collins tells her and I can't help but adore the guy. He's so supportive of our entire group, even if we're a little bit off some of the time.

We continue our conversation and I notice Roger's quite distant the entire time. I cheerfully converse with the rest of our friends while he cautiously replies occasionally. When our food comes, we enjoy it rapidly and I savor the soup. Roger pokes at his food and takes bites here and there. We eat in relative silence, except for Maureen's comments on the quality of our meal. She always has something to say.

"Look at this lettuce, it doesn't even look fresh!" she says poking at her salad.

"I don't think quality of food is why we chose the Life Café… I think it's the prices," I snap back.

"Very funny, Mark, but this is serious. How am I supposed to eat this?"

"Well, I'd start by putting some on your fork, then bringing it up to your mouth…." I ramble as she cuts me off with "Mark, stop acting like Roger, it doesn't suit you well."

I look over at Roger, who I can see smile at her remark. Joanne jumps in at this point to calm the upset Maureen. "It doesn't look that bad, Maureen."

"I guess you're right," she shrugs and eats the rest of her salad.

"Heard from Benny lately?" Collins asks, thankfully getting us off of the topic of Maureen's salad.

"Actually… no," I respond. "He hasn't been by to harass us in awhile."

"Well, you two must be happy about that," Collins says. We both smile, considering how much we love dealing with Benny.

"You could say that," Roger mutters and I'm glad to hear him say something tonight.

The waiter comes up to our table and takes away the majority of our plates, except for Maureen's salad, which she was eating rather rapidly. We all just shake our heads at her.

"Well as much as I've enjoyed this little get together, we really should be going," I say while standing up and pulling Roger with me. I throw some money on the table.

"So soon?" Maureen whines.

"Yeah, we have stuff we need to… do," I cover with, but in reality, it's stuff we need to talk about.

"Alright, well, talk to you soon Mark, Roger," Joanne smiles at the two of us.

"See ya," I reply to the group as we walk briskly out the door. As soon as we reach the outdoors, I grab Roger and turn him to face me.

"What the hell, Roger?"

He looks down at his feet, uneasy, and pauses a minute before responding. "Can we do this at home?"

"Fine," I snap back. We walk in silence back to the loft; I walk ahead of Roger who's dragging along. I haven't seen him act like this in weeks, so it makes me frustrated.

* * *

We both climb up to the loft and I slam the door open and let him in first. He slowly walks over to the couch and sits down in it. I make my way over to sit by him.

"What happened?" I ask him quietly.

"Uh… I went and visited Mimi today," he says with a soft voice and I relax a minute. It's definitely not what I expected.

"Oh," I whisper.

"It just… I haven't… been out there in awhile," he adds.

"I see…" Finding responses to his words are becoming increasingly harder. I decide to just sit back and listen.

"And I was sitting there, on her grave, and it all just came to me," he pauses, bringing his hands to his face. "Mark, I don't want to leave you… because I know what it's going to do to you when I'm gone."

"Roger…" I try to stop him from whatever he's going to say.

"So I want you to promise me now, the same promise I made to Mimi, that you'll go on, without me," he finishes with.

I choke back emotion and turn away from him. He continues, "Seriously, I don't know when it'll happen, but when it does, you better do something with your life. Become a famous filmmaker. Go to Santa Fe. It doesn't matter. But please…"

I turn back to face him and place my hand in his. "I promise."

"Good, now I feel better," he says with a happy smile on his face.

We sit in silence for awhile and I consider the situation. I couldn't believe how upset he got over this. It shocked me. We've never discussed it before, and God knows that I don't want him to leave me any time soon. But we both face the reality and I know its better that way.

He leans in to rest his head on my shoulder. I allow him and we both sit like that for awhile. I caress his hair and place a small kiss on his hand.

He pulls away after a couple of minutes and runs over to his guitar. He comes back to sit besides me and sit up to face him. He strums a couple of chords and then turns to speak to me.

"You probably have been wondering what I've been doing getting up early every day?" he asks with a cute smile on his face.

"The question has crossed my mind a couple of times," I reply.

"Well…" he pauses and plays a couple of chords. They all blend together beautifully and he stops to continue. "I've been working on a song, our song. But… you know me, it'll take me awhile, so I figure you'd at least to like to hear the music."

He continues playing the melody and I just observe him. He plays so gracefully and his fingers move across the strings delicately. He finishes playing and leans over to kiss me gently. "You like it so far?"

My smile must be a million miles wide, "I love it."

"Good," he goes back to the guitar and continues to play the melody over and over again. I sit and observe him and ponder the thoughts that plague my mind.

No day but today. I have to realize that I have to be happy with what I have with him, right now, that we found each other in the first place. I know he's scared and I'm scared too.

It all comes back to the cold air. It's had such an impact on our relationship. The air helped clear Roger's mind from the sadness that overtook him after Mimi's death. The cold transformed me into a wilting figure and Roger finally stepped in and helped me. We spent our first night together because of the cold that seeped into our apartment constantly. In all reality, it brought us together. Now as it fades into spring, we'll have to remind ourselves of how the crisp air can affect you in ways unimaginable.

I take in a breath of air and let it back out. For the first time in my life, I'm in peace with everything in my world. I have Roger and he has me, and together we make our lives worth living. I guess I'll just have to keep our time together special and always treasure it. It won't last forever, but I know it's worth it in the end.

**The End**

**

* * *

**

**Thanks again for reading! I'd love to hear your last comments and reviews! Expect something new in the near future:) **


End file.
